


Mr. and Mr. Snow

by WolfyWordWeaver



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Blood and Violence, Childhood Trauma, Developing Relationship, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Drama, Injury, Lack of Communication, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Miscommunication, Murder, Romance, Smut, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:47:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 53,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28298487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfyWordWeaver/pseuds/WolfyWordWeaver
Summary: Simon and Baz Snow having been living a perfectly comfortable and mediocre upper-class life they are forced to realize that they are both hitmen who have somehow managed to be at opposing ends of the trigger. Will they carry out orders to eliminate each other or will they attempt to get to the bottom of the mess that ties the Watford agency and the Grimm-Pitch agency in a bloody feud?
Relationships: Dev/Niall (Simon Snow), Malcolm Grimm/Natasha Grimm-Pitch, Nicodemus Petty/Fiona Pitch, Penelope Bunce/Shepard, The Mage/Lucy Salisbury, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 108
Kudos: 84
Collections: Winter Holiday Collection 2020





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shushu_yaoi_lj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shushu_yaoi_lj/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was inspired by the lovely [@babybimge's](https://babybimge.tumblr.com/post/634139091670351873/haha-i-dont-know-what-i-am-doing-but-i-kept) picture (which has been used with permission).
> 
> Many thanks to the discord server for hosting such a lovely gift fic exchange and also to my wonderful betas [Jan](https://satsukii.tumblr.com/) and [Gee](https://belalugosiisdead.tumblr.com/)! You guys are so amazing and have saved my sanity!
> 
> This story will not be just a scene-by-scene rehash of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, but rather a reinterpretation of that story in combination with the Simon Snow Series. I hope that you all will enjoy the ride!

A cacophony of helicopters in the air, military sirens blaring from every corner of the city, and buildings trembling from the waves of detonations filled the air of Bogotá and Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch knew that he was running out of time to take cover. The militia and police were tightening their nets through the city and he was running out of options. At the very least he had to get to the hotel and make contact with his father.

The afternoon sun was bright enough to sear one's retinas but Baz took the risk and lowered his oversized sunglasses as he caught sight of a handsome man hastily walking across from him and towards the same hotel that Baz was staying at. A quick glance around suggested that this man was also alone and the young Brit began plotting a way to throw the military off his scent. 

They would be looking for a man traveling alone.

Taking a deep breath, Tyrannus decided to follow after the man and take his chances. He could either convince the lovely brunette to let him play tag-along or he could set him up as a scapegoat. He absolutely hated going off script, but desperate times called for desperate measures. A uniformed man at the end of the street called out to him in Spanish, but Tyrannus ignored it and marched straight through the hotel doors in the hope that the other man was not actually meeting up with travel partners. 

Alarm shot through his body as he came face to face with a handful of police officers, each of them barking out questions about him and demanding his identification. 

Grey eyes glanced over to the bar to see that gorgeous brunette glancing at him. When another officer began approaching the stranger to ask questions, Baz turned his attention back to the men surrounding him. There were only four of them and he had one knife strapped to his thigh and another one strapped against his ribs. Those odds were looking pretty good. 

Was the security camera system down after that power surge? Would there be any proof of the confrontation he'd have to clean up later if he needed to attack? Since he couldn't leave any witnesses, would he be able to inflict enough head trauma to that civilian to create memory issues or would he have to accept that gorgeous specimen of a human being as collateral damage?

"He's with me!" an unfamiliar voice rang out and Baz felt a flood of new hormones race through his body. "He's with me."

The men that had been drawing close to him paused and stepped back at the earnestness of the other man's voice. Baz looked back at the stranger and took a moment to study the handsome figure more closely. Well built...a snatched waist...an adorable mop of unruly curls...a collector's edition array of freckles and moles over his skin... 

Tyrannus' eyes came back up to examine those blue eyes and marveled at how clear they were and how well they complimented the golden hue of his skin and sun-bleached hair. He noted that those eyes were not shy in glancing over his figure. 

"Hey, thanks for waiting for me," Tyrannus responded smoothly as he stepped forward and into the man's space. 

"No problem," he replied with a grin bright enough to hurt. 

They were told to get back to their room immediately for a lockdown and they both walked briskly towards the rooms with mischievous grins. Tyrannus dragged the man into his room without any protest and once they entered and locked up he leaned against the closed door with an incredulous chuckle. That worked! It somehow worked! The bronze-haired young man leaned his ear against it to listen to the bustle of the police in the halls and mindlessly bit his plush lower lip. 

"I'm...Baz," Tyrannus whispered as he glanced down at the other man. It sent a delighted thrill up his spine to note that there were at least three inches of difference in their height.

"My name is Simon," the man whispered back with a soft smile. 

He put out a hand, which Tyrannus took, and the taller man felt his heart begin to race for a reason much different than it had in the lobby of the hotel only moments before. Simon's hand was warm and it fit perfectly in his. They both stared at each other for a moment with wide smiles and then burst into giggles. 

The city of Bogatá remained in lockdown even after the police allowed people from the hotels to go out for food, so the two men found themselves spending all their time together in order to avoid any further suspicion. Baz learned that Simon was a foodie who knew all the best local digs and was the type of person to make friends with anyone and everyone. He had an infectious laugh, a big smile, and was absolutely everything that Tyrannus thought he could ever want. Simon learned that he had a sharp tongue, an old man's sense of humor, and a love for philosophical discussion. 

They ate and drank together, telling stories and staring at each other unabashedly. Simon stood in the light rain that evening after they finished dinner and threw a flirty wink towards his companion as he began to sway his hips. For perhaps the first time in his life, Tyrannus stepped into the spontaneity and took that invitation to dance. He allowed his perfectly gelled hair to get mussed by the rain and this stranger's hands, he allowed his body to be held closely in the embrace of dance. For once he didn't wonder what his father would think. 

It was a strange twist of fate that found Tyrannus falling in love with a stranger, and when they stumbled into the hotel room later that night Baz found himself giving in to temptation even more.

Hands squeezed his hips through the rain soaked shirt, the white material not concealing much anymore, and Tyrannus dipped his head to accept the kiss being offered. Their tongues danced together even more easily than their bodies had earlier in the day and when their bodies rutted together naked in that steamy evening air he felt like maybe the notion of a soul mate wasn't so ridiculous after all. How else could he explain the unbelievable chemistry between them, the comfort of kissing those lips and being held by those incredible arms? 

This Simon felt like home, something that had always been complicated before, but now... 

Moans and gasps filled his hotel room and soon Tyrannus found himself panting desperately as he voraciously rode that glorious cock. Home didn't feel so complicated and messy as those warm hands held his hips steady and those blue eyes never looked away from him. It felt comfortable and like somewhere he wanted to stay. 

They continued to kiss and make love as much as humanly possible through the night and into early morning hours and when they finally collapsed against each other for sleep, the young Brit wondered what sunrise would bring. 

Tyrannus woke up alone in the room and he felt his stomach drop. He sat up carefully and glanced around the room slowly before the click of the door's lock sounded and a bedraggled Simon walked in with a sheepish look. He carefully setting a tray of breakfast on the bed next to stunned man, its spread still steaming hot and Tyrannus noted that the plate was embellished with a large flower that must have been freshly picked off of some nearby foliage. 

Carefully taking the flower in hand, Tyrannus tucked it behind his left ear and glanced up to see Simon's reaction. The other man was now leaning against the wall by the window and seemed well pleased by the gesture. He smiled softly, completely unbothered by the renewal of bombings and other military activity that had been plaguing the city since the assassinations that took place the day before. Golden skin crinkled around the blue eyes and that Tyrannus felt his heart flutter.

*****

"Simon, you don't even know him," Penny tried to reason.

The bronze-haired male laughed as he put up a block from his sparring partner's blow. 

"C'mon, Pen, we've been together for six weeks! I know a little more than _nothing_."

"Having sex for six weeks is not really the same as getting to know a guy," she shot back in annoyance. "A real relationship needs to build trust, Simon! I mean, Micah and I have been together a lot longer-"

Simon did his best to pay attention to his best friend while also dodging punches and cheap shot kicks. Sparring in the boxing ring was one of his favorite outlets for stress relief and after what he had done last night he needed to burn a lot of nervous energy. It was a good kind of nervousness, but still.

"Anyway, Penny, I've got...forever to learn...more about him," he huffed through the silicone mouth guard. "Because I asked him to, oof, marry me!"

 _"What?!"_ the bushy-haired woman gasped from outside the ring. "You did what?!!"

Simon laughed as he was taken down to the mat by Gareth and sloppily defended his face from the barrage of blows. 

"I asked him to marry me, Penny!"

"Gareth, stop punching him!" she demanded. "I can't hear what he's saying, because it sounds like he's saying something crazy!"

"I'm getting married!" Simon added with another deep belly laugh. "Penny, I'm getting married!"

*****

"You did what, Baz?!" Dev gawked as he looked to the side where his cousin was working up another route on the cliff face. 

Baz didn't look the least bit perturbed as he clipped in the top rope before searching for his next secure grip. Dev was one of the only ones who ever used that childhood nickname, but now the nickname seemed even more familiar than his birth name.

"He asked me to marry him and I said yes."

"Have you been checking your drinks for drugs?" Niall asked from below them as he followed up Dev's lead line and carefully clipped himself in. 

"Of course, you moron," Baz huffed. "I'm not a _child_."

"Uh, yeah, but you've just said yes to marrying a guy you've known for what, two weeks?"

There was silence among the friends as they focused on the climb for a few more minutes. Baz enjoyed the burn in his forearms and shook out his left arm before reaching up and forcing his hand into the crack and pulling himself up further.

"We've been together for six weeks, Niall," he called down as matter-of-factly as he could.

"That's not much better," Dev huffed before he groaned and leaned back on the rope to allow his arms a short break. "I mean, you've never even had a real boyfriend before! Why are you being such a U-Haul gay for him?"

"You guys know that I'd never do anything without thinking it through," Baz countered. "We haven't known each other long, but I know that this is the right thing to do. We're a perfect match."

"But...how can you know that?" Niall grunted as he hauled himself up closer to Dev. "Move your lazy ass, Dev."

The slightly older Grimm cousin flipped his friend off before leaning forward and hanging off the cliff face again.

"Do you guys trust me?" Baz grumbled as he continued to work his way up the crack. With all the scrapes he was acquiring, Simon was probably going to shower the back of his hands in kisses when he got back into town.

"What does he even do for work?" Dev challenged.

"He's in construction," came the confident reply. "A big time contractor. His job requires a lot of travel so it works perfectly with what I do."

"And what the hell does he think you do?" Niall laughed. "Surely you haven't told him the truth!"

"He's under the impression that I work the tech for Wall Street stock market companies. Tending the servers, building up networks...that kind of stuff."

The three men continued their climb with huffs and panting until they were all contentedly settled on the top of the red cliff and overlooking the dry desert scenery surrounding them. 

"You must really like this guy," Dev finally settled on saying.

A fond look crossed Baz's face unconsciously and the two other friends shared a surprised look with each other. Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch was not known for being a sentimental guy and was notoriously hard to please.

"I love him," he stated far too easily for a man who'd only known the guy he was engaged to for six weeks.

They both offered supportive arms around the tall man's shoulders.

"Have you...have you told your dad yet?"

At that a cloud seemed to pass over the young man's face and he stared down at his scraped up hands. 

"...no."

Dev whistled lowly and turned to stare back out at the red landscape. There was no way that telling the hardass Malcolm Grimm could go well.

"Well...he'll probably forgive you," Niall tried. "Eventually."

Baz rubbed at his temples anxiously and leaned against his cousin.

"You'll still stand with me, right? When he finds out?"

"Of course," they both replied at the same time.

Niall felt badly about how down Baz was looking and squeezed his shoulders again.

"Hey, congratulations, man. I know we're giving you a hard time, but we're really pleased for you."

"Yeah," Dev added quickly. "If you think that this Simon guy is good enough to marry than he's probably the most perfect man out there."

The comment brought a surprised laugh out of Baz and all three of them were relaxing again.

"He is," Baz sighed happily just thinking about those blue eyes and that ridiculously bright smile. "He's my dream man."

And in one month he was going to be officially (and mostly legally) married to that man.

*****


	2. Part 1

_Six Years Later_

Baz stared at the perfectly white ceiling and blinked away the remnants of his strange and unfulfilling dream. Their couple's counseling session yesterday had been disappointing, to say the least, and that experience had carried over into his dreams. 

He rolled over and reached out a hand to stroke Simon's back but paused before the hand reached its destination. They hadn't even kissed each other goodnight in weeks and it had been awkward to realize that neither of them could remember the last time they had even had sex. Baz was sure it had been a handjob in the shower, but he couldn't remember _when_. And today's docket was full; there was no time for any morning shows of affection regardless of how much he wanted it.

Pulling his hand back towards himself, Baz rolled out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe before shuffling towards their ensuite and prepared for the day. His and Simon's toothbrushes were laid out in order, both were wet for five seconds, and then toothpaste was applied carefully. Tapping his fingers to the beat of a classical piece for his violin, Baz counted out ten seconds precisely for each section of his teeth being brushed.

It wasn't long before he heard Simon getting up and shuffling towards the front door where he was undoubtedly going to be getting the morning edition. Teeth cleaned, he moved on to washing his face and tending to his hair. Baz took as much time as he could to sort out his finicky hair and offered a weak smile to Simon when he shuffled back into the bathroom and went directly for his already prepared toothbrush. The half-asleep brunette grunted in acknowledgment before getting to work on his perfectly white smile.

The morning routine carried on in a familiar pattern. Discuss mundane things like the weather this week, drink tea and read the paper while Simon whips together breakfast and chugs down that abomination of coffee and every sugary syrup in the country, and...blandly discuss changing their family doctor to this new person recommended by a neighbor. 

Baz stood in their shared walk-in closet and watched as Simon shrugged noncommittally and barely glanced at him. His heart sunk a bit.

There had been a time when they couldn't keep their hands off each other, when Simon's eyes would be helplessly drawn to his body even after weeks of passionate love making. Shaking his head, Baz determined that he would be content with where they were. All marriages had their ups and downs - that's what the marriage books said. It wasn't suddenly over because they hadn't had sex in...however long it had been. 

Simon was still here, he just wasn't...talking.

With efficient movements, Baz got dressed in one of his favorite suits, a blue one with golden sunflowers and green foliage hand-stitched over the material. The silk button-up he wore under the jacket had its top few buttons left open as he usually did and Baz made sure to dab a bit of cologne against his sternum. Simon stepped out from his side of the closet in his usual uniform of black trousers and a button-up neatly tucked under his cardigan. 

"Will you set up the first appointment with Dr...whatever his name is?" Simon asked as he pulled on his loafers over the black dress socks.

"We don't have to switch doctors if you don't want," Baz sighed as he tried to hold back his annoyance. How could Simon not remember the man's name? He'd only been talking about the damned doctor for days now.

Another shrug. 

"It's fine. Whatever you want."

"Simon," Baz gritted out through clenched teeth, "we need to be in agreement." Fingers began tapping out a song against his thigh as he resisted the urge to cross his arms over his chest in a defensive posture. The couple's councilor said body language was important.

Simon offered a bemused smile. "Okay. I agree with whatever you want."

It was moments like this that really made Baz want to strangle the love of his life. They had been talking about trying for a baby for years and all the different avenues that could take. After six years of wedded bliss they were more than financially secure and had set up their lives to be the perfect upper middle-class lifestyle. A nice home in a suburb with the highest ranked school in the state, sensible cars (yes, his Jaguar was _sensible_ ), and stable jobs. All they were missing to complete their perfect family was a child, and Simon had agreed with that a couple of years ago.

It's why they had done everything this way! There had been planning, preparing, and perfect execution to get them here, but now that they were getting started with the process of parenthood Simon seemed to have become completely detached and almost disinterested. Baz wanted them to do this _together_ , to be on the same page and just as excited as the other but it only seemed to make Simon less engaged and made him an anxious mess. How were they supposed to parent an actual living child?! Would he have to take care of everything? Was Simon going to become one of those absentee dads that he read about?

"We don't...have to do this right now," he sighed, allowing his hair to fall forward in his face as he stared at his own polished Oxfords. "If it's not a good time or you're rethinking things." His nails were absentmindedly scraping the delicate skin of his opposite wrist as he focused on the shoes and not looking at Simon. 

A warm hand settled on his elbow and his hands dropped to his sides.

"Baz, it's fine. Just set the appointment and I'll be there. You know my schedule."

He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Baz's mouth and moved his hand up from the elbow to cup the back of Baz's head affectionately. But just as quickly as he showed the affection, Simon dropped his hand and was moving out towards the living room. Taking a deep steadying breath, Baz adjusted his suit one last time and followed along. They had a commute to work to make. 

*****

Simon stepped out of the elevator and into the main lobby. Keris greeted him kindly and handed him a packet for the day's assignments while reminding him about all the usual official crap he was terrible at. He was a hitman for Snake's Sake, not an accountant. 

"Morning, Simon!" Penelope greeted as she walked towards her office. 

"Hey there, Pen! How're things going?"

She rolled her eyes. 

"The same old, same old."

"Shep treating you alright?" he snickered and she groaned.

"Why are you bringing him into this, you bastard? He's an absolute disaster and I have no desire to feed into his delusions that we're going to get together!"

"That's not what I heard," he teased in a sing-song voice as he stepped into his small office.

"I'm telling on you to the mister," she threatened and he laughed heartily at that. 

Regardless of how she joked, there wasn't much love lost between Baz and Penelope regardless of how much Simon cared for the both of them. The first time they met was at the wedding and there sadly hadn't been many opportunities to get them together outside of that. It was an occupational hazard, the whole your-spouse-might-get-killed-by-a-coworker thing, so he went to great lengths to keep Baz far away from everyone he knew in the business. 

More and more often it weighed down on him - keeping Baz blissfully unaware of his real job and the risks it came with. He _wanted_ Baz and Penny to get to really know each other, to have the chance to develop a friendly bond. They had barely had a chance to speak at the wedding and both having rather strong personalities led them to arguing about politics and other topics not suitable for a wedding. Simon had to forcibly drag Baz away from the discussion about the great vowel shift of the sixteenth century to keep things from getting out of hand. He knew what Penny was capable of and had no desire to see any tables flipped or his new husband getting shot at.

But still, he knew that they could become friends if they just had time to discuss, debate, and get to know each other on a regular basis. 

Sitting back in the rolling chair, Simon sighed and flipped the switch that pulled up the array of weapons that he could choose for his upcoming mission. The mark was a relatively simple one that he didn't have to worry too much about so he allowed his mind to wander over to thoughts about Baz again. His husband had looked so beautiful this morning, standing there in the golden beams of sunrise in that perfectly tailored suit and with his hair falling in loose waves around his face. 

He'd been so tense for a long while now and Simon had practically given up on trying to figure out how to make it better. Baz was a chronic worrier and even if Simon helped him through whatever was worrying him at the moment, the peace would never last long before he found something new to worry about. 

Talking about having a baby had been fun and exciting at first but, in true Baz fashion, it hadn't taken long before he was worrying about any and everything. It really sucked the joy out of potential parenthood to break it all down into every potential step and try to plan and account for all variables. There were worksheets and charts that Baz had worked up including pros and cons lists of all their options. 

A couple of years later he had just decided that the best thing he could do was just roll with the punches and let Baz handle things however he wanted. If he wanted a new doctor, then Simon would agree. If he decided to keep their familiar medical practitioner, that was fine too. Whatever stressed Baz out the least. Unfortunately, the more Simon tried to relax about the whole thing the more worked up Baz seemed to get. 

Cleaning the weapons absentmindedly, Simon thought of how often Penelope insisted that Baz was just an anal retentive jerk with control issues. Besides arguing with him at the wedding, she had disliked Baz for "rushing" their relationship and spent the whole month of their engagement trying to talk Simon out of it. She just couldn't fathom that anyone willing to marry Simon after only six weeks of getting to know him was any good. And each and every time Simon mentioned a particular martial problem she seemed more than eager to point out why things wouldn't work between them and that he should have listened to her from the start.

Her comments had only gotten more pointed and heated after her boyfriend of eight years dumped her the weekend she thought he was going to propose. 

"Oh Baz," he sighed as he tucked the ammunition he'd need into his bag and loaded it up with the proper pistols and back-up knives. He missed their earlier years, back when they would take impromptu holidays and have wild sex out on the terrace of their rented condo. "I just want to make you happy," he murmured before zipping up the bag and pointedly ignoring the tiny portion of his mind that would panic every time he thought too long about adding a _baby_ to their family. 

Glancing down at his watch, Simon calculated that he had plenty of time to finish the hit and go through the scheduled meeting with his boss, the Mage. He'd been doing pretty well with all the hits assigned to him lately but the Mage always had ways that he could improve. Yes, he'd have plenty of time before he needed to be home in order to have dinner ready at 7 o'clock. 

Always at 7 o'clock sharp. Maybe Baz _was_ a little fussy.


	3. Part 2

"Good morning," Baz greeted as he stepped out of the body scanning security hall. 

Dev greeted him with a bemused smile and handed him the day's itinerary as well as a packet for an upcoming hit. "Your dad wants to discuss a few details about this one, so you'll need to make a video call before you get started."

"Thank you," he replied as he started to read through the packet. "And good morning, Dev. Niall reach out lately?"

"Nah. I think he's still in the Bahamas, the bastard," Dev snickered as he fell in step with his cousin. "Uncle giving you another big one?"

"Doesn't he always?" Baz mused before chuckling a bit late at the mental image of Niall stuck in the Bahamas and getting third degree sunburns again. "Why does he never remember to pack sunscreen? He's going to get cancer if this keeps happening."

"Well we all can't have doting significant others that will help us remember what to pack," Dev teased and was rewarded with an eyeroll.

"Simon can't remember to pack his underwear unless I remind him. He's useless at helping me stay organized."

"Yeah, but the poor bloke has probably given up on trying to help you with anything," Dev shot back with another laugh.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Baz snapped in annoyance. 

"Oh, come off it, Baz! You're Mr. Particular Perfectionist! Us mere mortals can't compare to the flawless execution of life like you can. Man, I'm your cousin and I get sick and tired of your shit. I can't even imagine someone being married to you for this long without losing their will to live, haha!"

"Keep talking, Dev," the younger cousin warned with a snarl, "and you'll be eating dinner out of a straw for the next month."

Dev only laughed harder and put his hands in the air. "You're just making my point for me Mr. _Snow_."

His voice curled meanly around the last name, something that all the Grimms and the one Pitch left did anytime they mentioned Baz's married name. He hated their derision and it always kept his emotional wounds festering. Baz loved Simon and he hadn't once regretted getting married to the man. The problem was that Simon knew him as Baz Black, a meaningless pseudonym that didn't carry the weight of his full bloodline. 

Everyone in the business knew the names Grimm and Pitch and he had always been so careful to keep from using that name outside of the office work. When he and Simon got married it didn't feel right to keep a false name and bring his poor clueless husband into that lie so he had agreed to take on Simon's name. 

It had definitely infuriated his father and his aunt. Both of them were not the biggest fans of his preference in partners in the first place, but then were utterly outraged when he made the decision to marry a regular civilian and not pull them into the fold of the family business. Fiona had raged about her sister's memory being besmirched and forgotten because he had refused to keep the name of the Pitches and his Father had brooded angrily at his firstborn son and Heir giving up the name of his esteemed family as well for some common and bland name like Snow.

The wedding had been a tense affair, to say the least.

Simon's parents had seemed quite the opposite of the Grimms and Pitch, as easy going as Simon and as bland as their namesake. They honestly didn't look much like their own son but Simon had mentioned something about looking more like his grandfather and that side of the family tree where his dad took after the grandmother. The family resemblance between Baz and his Father and Aunt had been undeniable and Baz blushed just thinking of the way that Simon had winked at him and assured him that it looked like he would age well.

Pulling up the video call to his father's pristine office, Baz couldn't deny that his father was indeed aging well regardless of all the trauma he and his family had endured over the years. His hair was all white, but his face was still mostly smooth outside of the stern frown lines that had probably been there even when he was in his 20s. Sharp cheekbones and thin lips that were constantly pursed complimented the man's stern features and Baz wondered if he really was going to grow up to be just like that.

"Good morning, Father. You wanted to talk to me about this hit?"

"Yes, it's a very important contract that's come through and I need to be sure that there are no errors on this."

Baz frowned. "Of course." He never made mistakes.

"The man's name is Humbert Drummond and he is a high security prisoner being transported to a new facility. This will probably be the only chance to touch him without breaking into a maximum security prison, so we cannot afford to let him escape."

"Should I be...concerned about this?" Baz asked as he jutted out his hip and crossed his arms over his chest. "You've repeatedly mentioned that there isn't room for error in this mission, but when have I been known to make mistakes? Why are you so worried about this one?"

Malcolm Grimm looked down at the papers in front of him for a quiet moment and Baz wondered at it. He'd been trained for this position since childhood and had a flawless record of execution. He'd taken out politicians, other hit persons, gang leaders, and even crazed bio-weapon creators. What was the problem with this Humbert Drummond?

Those dark eyes finally looked up and Malcolm was wearing his gravest expression.

"You've always done well, Tyrannus. Do not let yourself grow cocky and overconfident, because every hit has the potential to end your own life as well."

Baz straightened up and nodded stiffly. 

"Of course, Father."

Turning sharply on his heel, Baz marched away without a backward glance. There was a lot to plan and Malcolm Grimm knew how to end a call. 

*****

"Welcome home, love," Baz greeted as Simon stepped in from the rain. 

"Hello," Simon sighed as he glanced around the living room. Things had been rearranged and changed again. 

Baz was fussing with the curtains and Simon pretended that he hadn't seen anything and headed for the kitchen to prepare dinner. It was always at 7 o'clock so he had to make sure to hurry and get it all finished before the nagging started. Even with the time crunch, he had to make a quick stop in the bedroom to change out of his shirt; the job this afternoon got some blood on his collar and he didn't want to have to try and explain it away.

Dressed in his sweats and a t-shirt, Simon returned to the kitchen and rushed through the food prep while humming along to some song that was on the radio this afternoon. Unfortunately, even cooking couldn't get him out of the dreaded questions.

"Love, what do you think of the new draperies?" Dumping another tablespoon of butter into the potatoes he took a bracing breath and peeked into the living space where Baz was still fussing with the damn things. "They have a green hue to them so I'm thinking that we'll need to re-upholster the sofas and replace the rug."

They looked...the same as the last curtains. He had no idea.

"Huh."

Simon heard the annoyed sharp inhale from his husband and knew he had given the wrong response. "We talked about this," Baz drawled in warning.

Simon deflated a little. They were already arguing.

"I thought...we decided not to change the curtains." And maybe they hadn't? He couldn't fucking tell the difference.

"They're _draperies_ , Simon."

"Okay."

There was silence between them as they both stared at the controversial window coverings. Simon had never understood why those cost so much and why they needed all those silly folds. Granted, he'd spent most of his childhood tacking blankets over the windows if he wanted them covered, so he wasn't exactly the expert on such things. Baz was, apparently. 

"This will be better," Baz finally stated firmly. "You'll just get used to it."

He already was, he supposed. They looked the _same_. How much money did Baz spend for them to look the exact same?! He rubbed at his temples and went back to the kitchen. They were comfortably upper middle class so what did it matter if Baz wanted to waste money on identical curtains? It was probably something like that nesting thing he'd heard about with pregnant women. Baz was preparing their home for a baby and he would not rest until the house was perfect. 

Because babies cared about things like curtains and matching sofas and rugs. 

Fuck, he was probably going to be even worse about buying baby things. Simon could just imagine an entire year's worth of salary being poured into the unreasonably large bedroom that was designated for the future potential child. Why did a baby need so much room and so many things? He'd been just fine with the dresser drawer he slept in for the first few years of life in his foster home and he hadn't had anything to play with besides his red ball until well after he was ten years old. What good was toys going to do for a baby that couldn't even hold itself up?

Why was he getting so worked up about this?

He mashed the potatoes angrily and added another half of a stick of butter into the thing for good measure. It wasn't exactly Baz's fault that he was so weird about babies and baby things. The guy had been born into a well-off family and probably knew what to do with all the baby things. It wasn't something that he should let himself get bothered by especially since he couldn't exactly share the truth of his childhood and upbringing with his techy husband. 

What would Baz understand about foster care and neglect and abuse? What would he understand about training to kill people and enjoying a career in that? Baz would probably hyperventilate at the possibility of chipping his nail polish; there's no way he could really understand the truth about Simon's life. But that also meant that Simon had to keep burying his feelings. Baz wouldn't be able to understand and he didn't want to stress their relationship out anymore by trying to force him to. 

They were on thin enough ice with each other these days.

As they ate dinner quietly, Simon tried to properly pace himself. The desire to binge eat was still something he fought with everyday and he didn't want to deal with Baz's disgusted or annoyed looks.

"There's the dinner party tomorrow," his elegant husband stated with a bit too much exuberance. 

"Seven Snakes," Simon muttered under his breath before looking up and offering a tired smile. "Okay, love. I'll remember."

"Do I need to pick anything up from the store for the party?"

The rest of the evening went by in much the same way it always did. Bland conversation, forced smiles, and turning in early. Simon sighed as he saw Baz reading a thick book on the bed and knew that tonight was not going to be the night they'd break their sexual dry spell. Hell, he missed going down on Baz and making the man scream in pleasure. If he tried that now he'd probably get smacked in the head with that book and he didn't really feel like heading off to his out-of-town job in a couple of days with a concussion. 

Instead, he just huffed in annoyance and got under the covers in his t-shirt and boxers and shifted around until he was mostly comfortable. He flipped off his side-table's lamp and sighed again.

"Would you turn-"

"Just a few more minutes," Baz replied automatically as he flipped the page. 

Simon sighed again and closed his eyes. Maybe his dreams would take him back to better days.


	4. Part 3

"Are you heading out right now?" 

Baz looked over his shoulder as he pulled on his peacoat. 

"Yes. There seems to be a little trouble with one of our clients but it won't take me too long to sort out. I'll be back in time for the party."

Simon watched as the dark-haired man pulled out a silk scarf and easily wrapped it around his throat with swift motions. Baz had shaved and was wearing his fanciest cologne and it made a frown tug at Simon's lips. He couldn't really tell how long Baz would be out of the house with so little information, but the extra effort Baz was taking made him think that he'd have enough time to squeeze one extra job in before they had to attend that awful party tonight. 

"Drive safely," he offered with a small smile. 

Baz lit up and leaned forward to offer a brief kiss to his husband's lips. Simon melted into it and hummed sadly when Baz pulled away and strutted off. It was too soon that he saw the Jaguar pulling out of the garage and rolling down the driveway and Simon sighed as he rubbed the back of his head. It's not like he needed the money that came with this job but he needed the outlet for his anxious energy. 

He _hated_ these parties.

They were always so awkward and he and Baz would always get back home feeling tired and miserable. This neighborhood might have looked great and stable on paper but he and Baz were the only same-sex couple and it always seemed to be a point of discussion and questioning among the heterosexuals. If he had to hear one more person comment on his sexuality he just might give in to the temptation to put up a contract for the hit of one of these clueless bastards. 

The target "Lucky" would have to do for resolving his aggression tonight.

Going out to the shed, Simon accessed the secret bunker where he housed weapons, IDs, and cash. A thick wad of cash would allow him to make his play so he tucked it into his pocket and then took off in his own vehicle. The Mercedes-Benz CLA-Class roared happily as he drove it out of the quiet suburbs and into the busy craze of big city traffic. 

Tapping along the steering wheel to the beat of the catchy pop songs on the radio, Simon ran through the potential variables of this particular job. This man wasn't exactly a high profile target, but he was dangerous enough that Simon had to play his cards right. He didn't want to damage this suit right before the party.

Entering the sketchy club was easy and after a quick survey Simon worked his way towards the back where the private rooms always were. The early crowd was already there but it wasn't too full. Probably a little early for his drunk act, but it was most likely his best bet. Drunks were a nuisance and yet usually tolerated better than a straight up idiot. 

Unfortunately, when he stumbled into the room where Lucky should have been elbow deep in a poker game, the man was nowhere to be seen and his buddies seemed like the nervous sort. Simon turned up the charm as he stumbled forward.

"Hey, is that a game?" he asked with an appropriate slur. "I like cards."

"Fuck off, man!" the man on the left growled. 

"Look, ya got an open seat," he tried to reason.

"It's for Lucky!" another man explained as his hand settled against his hip threateningly.

Simon pretended not to notice.

"Well...I don't see a lucky guy here," he stated before laughing at his own joke and reaching into his own pocket. Everyone in the room tensed and went for their weapons, but he continued as if he was too drunk to have any sense. "Look, I gots the money. Money." 

He threw a fat wad of cash on the table and the men seemed to settle a bit.

"We don't want another player," guy number one sighed as he removed his hands from his weapon. "Just fuck off, you drunk."

Simon grabbed his money and shrugged, smile still in place. "Your loss, yeah?" he laughed. "I've got money. Good money."

"Yeah, well we're waiting on Lucky."

He flashed a grin at the men, one that had gotten him dates, money, and even a husband.

"Lucky's not here yet, is he?"

It didn't take much before he was seated at the table and making them all laugh. Simon liked to imagine that he was a happy drunk, a more boisterous and relaxed version of himself. The truth was that he was a weepy drunk who got too caught up in childhood memories and wanted nothing more than to be held and loved on. 

It was something that he didn't let happen anymore because it was too vulnerable a position to be in. Even when he and Baz used to go out for drinks on the regular Simon never let himself get that far. Baz only knew about the happy drunk, the one that Simon had played often enough to pretend that it was real.

Everyone loved the happy drunk. Even these fools loved the happy drunk, quickly thawing to his affable demeanor and slapping him on the back as the game progressed. He lost some money and even won a couple of rounds, all of them laughing raucously.

"What the hell is going on here?" a voice exclaimed from behind him.

Simon grinned as he glanced over at his shoulder.

"We're playin' a game, man."

"You were taking too long, Lucky," one of the men laughed.

"Oh, you're Lucky?" he asked, smile still in place and a weapon now in hand under his shirt. 

"What, are you looking for a job or something?" Lucky sneered.

"Ah, no," he replied good-naturedly. "You _are_ the job."

Lucky was down with the first two shots and then the surprised cronies were fumbling with their weapons like the amateurs that they were. Simon almost felt badly for how quickly he took them all down but it was their own damn faults for not being better prepared or more practiced. Blue eyes studied the room to make sure that he wasn't missing any potential threats before he stood up from his seat easily and took a peek at the hands that they had been playing.

"A pair of threes?" he laughed before tossing them back on the table. 

They hadn't even been any good at poker.

"Oh shit," he laughed as he looked down at his watch. That had taken a bit longer than planned and he was going to have to book it back home if he didn't want to be late.

At least he could still wear this same suit to the party.

*****

The hotel Baz stepped out into was a fine establishment that did business with many high-end clients, especially those who enjoyed a bit of privacy. It had taken him an extra half hour to park a few blocks away and catch a taxi here but it had given him enough time to apply some heavy makeup and put on some sky-high heels. 

The mark was a man with tastes than ran to the more exotic and Baz wasn't afraid to admit that he was kind of the organization's specialist when it came to jobs like this. Guards checked him at the door, taking a look into the leather bag he brought. He offered a polite smile when they held up the handcuffs, but no one said a word against it. 

"He's got a flight in an hour," the man stated, instead. "And he can't be late."

"Of course," Baz assured the man with a sharp nod. 

It was always an interesting experience to tower over even the bodyguards, his natural height in combination with the heels a statement maker. He was led into the bedroom of the suite and set his bag of goods down while the target finished his bathroom routine. The scent of expensive body care wafted from the open door and Baz wondered if Simon would like a cinnamon and spice scent over their current cedar and bergamot. 

A man stepped out of the room with a towel around his waist and gave Baz an appraising look. Definitely not Fiona's type and she never did well at disguising her disdain for men who wanted nothing but to fuck her if she couldn't at least appreciate them aesthetically. Baz had no such issues. He'd always been picky about who he found attractive, but now that he was married it seemed that all men rated the same on his scale of attraction - not as hot as Simon.

Even months of no sex couldn't make him desire this piece of shit, but he smiled just so and slipped the pea coat off with practiced ease. Skilled fingers unbuttoned the silk shirt to reveal a black leather and red satin corset that made the other man's throat bob with a thick swallow. It complimented his high-waisted trousers well and he rose an eyebrow teasingly.

"Trousers on or off?" he asked with a thick Londoner's accent.

"Keep them on for now," the man requested as he stared hungrily down the man's body. "You know what I like?"

"I was appropriately briefed," Baz responded before bending at the knees to reach into his bag and pulling out a riding crop. "Now, drop the towel and kneel in the middle of the room."

The moron was already a trembling puddle of excitement and Baz watched disinterestedly as he disrobed and practically crawled to the spot indicated by the flick of the crop. Why did these big shot gun runners and drug dealers always like to give up their sense of control to strangers? Didn't they realize how open it left them to being murdered? It wasn't that Baz was vanilla or couldn't appreciate a good spanking session, but it seemed pointlessly risky when you were someone with a lot of enemies. Keeping a solid lineup of dominatrices on staff seemed like a much better investment in his mind. 

Baz took the time to properly cuff the man and ran the crop over his hairy back.

"Have you been a bad boy?" he purred and watched as the man trembled in pleasure. 

"I have," he whimpered just before the snap of leather on skin echoed in the room. "Ooooh."

"You have?" Baz teased before a practiced flick of his wrist elicited another mark on the pale skin. He started to walk around the man like an animal circling its prey.

"Oh, yes, I have," the man moaned dramatically.

Grey eyes rolled before Baz struck the man again. 

"Do you know what happens to bad boys?" Crowley, he was going to have to wash his mouth out with soap after dealing with this fucker. Only Simon deserved to hear him say these things with any gusto, so he kept his voice a little on the flat side. "They get punished."

"Oh yeah," the mark moaned excitedly. "Punish me!"

He was rewarded with two more sharp smacks before Baz settled behind him once more. 

"Have you been selling big guns to bad people?" he whispered into the man's ear as he settled hands on the oiled up shoulders. 

"Wha-?"

The man's neck was broken before he could even finish the question and Baz let his body drop to the floor without a second glance. The guards wouldn't take long to realize what had happened so he whipped out a cloth to wipe any potential prints off the man's shoulders before wiping his own hands of the oil and sticking it into his pocket for later disposal. There was already knocking at the door and a testing of the locked handle as he slipped on his shirt and coat and snatched up his bag. 

With a twist and pull one of his bag's handles detached and revealed a rappelling line which he quickly attached to a decorative but solid sconce. The guards were shouting now, probably having caught a glance of their employer's dead body through the crack in the flimsy door. Baz took a second to make sure that his coat was secure before he jogged towards the edge of the building from the obscenely large patio and hopped right off it. 

By this point in his life, leaping off of buildings was old news for Baz, so he just glanced around as the air whipped around his body and made his hair and coat flutter about prettily. The landing in an alley was a little less graceful than he wanted, but heels always made his landings a bit less stable. With a jerk, the rappelling line detached completely from the bag and Baz tossed the thing into the dumpster. It wouldn't matter if anyone found the bag because it and everything inside of it was made of fingerprint resistant material. 

He just secured his jacket a little more tightly around his chest and stepped out onto the street to call a taxi. The bag of makeup wipes in his other coat pocket made quick work of cleaning off his face before he even got to his car and he was pleased to see that he was making better time than anticipated. 

Pulling into the garage he was surprised to see that Simon wasn't there. Did he have to go in to work again before the party? Was he going to be late? A quick check of his phone as he stepped into the closet revealed no texts and the unfamiliar slew of questions began swirling.

_Is he hurt?_

_Did someone find us?_

_How much ransom would they ask for?_

_Is my father going to make me beg for help?_

_Is he hurt?_

_Is he scared?_

_Should I call?_

The sound of the kitchen door opening caught his attention and Baz quickly stepped further into the closet and out of sight while settling a hand over his pistol. 

"Love? Is that you?"

"Hey, Baz!" came the familiar greeting and the taller man allowed himself a sigh of relief before he removed his hand from the weapon and pulled out his wedding band from its place tucked in the corset so that he could push in onto his finger again.

"I didn't see you here when I pulled in," he shouted as he stripped out of his clothes as quickly as possible so that Simon wouldn't catch him in that get-up.

"Yeah, sorry. I went to the gym for a bit of exercise."

"Oh? How did it go?"

Simon laughed as he stepped into his side of the closet, not bothering to look over towards his husband. "I killed it."


	5. Part 4

"Welcome neighbors!"

Simon and Baz plastered on their best grins and greeted the hosts with as much gusto as they could manage.

"Oh Baz, darling, you have to help me out," the hostess begged as she dragged him towards the group of ladies. "Camilla insists that oxblood is coming back this season but I just know it's eggplant."

"Of course, Karen," he replied smoothly before snatching a full glass of champagne and downing it in one go.

Simon shot him a remorseful glance and grabbed himself a beer as he walked over to the congregation of men with the tartlets neatly wrapped in hand. "Hey," he greeted and was waved over.

"Hey man! Good to see you!"

"Did the missus make those?" a guy named Chad asked before roaring with laughter. The others laughed and rolled their eyes while Simon gritted his teeth.

"The kitchen is my domain," he replied as calmly as he could while clinging to his relaxed grin. "My _husband_ is not much for cooking."

"That's surprising," the idiot John laughed in response.

"Oh? And why's that?" Simon asked coolly.

"Did you guys watch the game?" the host interrupted as tactfully as possible. "The guys were killing it last night!"

Simon watched blankly as they discussed plays and scores before handing off the plate of treats to the hostess as she passed by.

"What about you, Simon?" Chad asked. "Did you place any bets on the game?"

"I don't know anything about sports," he ground out with an increasingly forced grin. This wasn't the first time he'd had this discussion with the same nitwits. "Baz is the one you want to ask about all that stuff. He played through school and such."

He gulped down the rest of the bottle in an attempt to block out John's exclamation of surprise.

"I mean, he's always dressed like a super gay, you know what I mean?" the imbecile continued. "Not to be offensive or anything, I mean, you obviously like it. It's just hard to imagine him taking a hit or anything on the field."

Simon thought back to the home videos he and Baz had laughed over seeing an elementary school Baz tearing it up on the soccer field in his tiny shorts. The videos of his games through high school had definitely been more brutal and he had seen his husband take some crazy tackles. Simon had since teased Baz by saying that those shins had to have been surgically replaced with titanium plates during high school in order to still be walking.

"He was MVP of the league," Simon tried to defend but it didn't look like the morons were going to be getting it this time either.

They were too busy ribbing at each other with barely veiled derogatory statements about non-heterosexuals and Simon rolled his eyes before he stepped away to get a better look at Baz. The man was currently having a baby shoved into his reluctant arms by a frazzled mother and Simon felt his stomach clench as Baz tried not to look too excited. He'd always been freakishly good at taking care of babies and making them happy, something that he always chalked up to having so many siblings.

Baz loved babies, he was great with them, and he was so excited about them finally having one together. He'd be a great dad. Those grey eyes softened as Baz bounced the baby carefully and a smile slipped out past the mask he almost always wore these days. The baby was blowing spit bubbles and instead of being disgusted Baz only popped his lips at the baby.

It was sweet and at the same time utterly terrifying. Baz glanced up and caught Simon's eye and the fond expression dropped completely. Baz blinked and then turned back to the child as if it was nothing more than a throw pillow whose design didn't fit their décor.

*****

Deborah took her daughter back and Baz was more than happy to relinquish his hold on her. Why did he feel so stupid for being happy while holding a baby? Why had Simon been looking at him that way? They were theoretically going to have one of their own in the next couple of years so shouldn't he be excited to see how comfortable his husband was with babies instead of looking like he might vomit?

"Oh, Baz, did you make these tartlets?" Judith moaned around the flakey pastry. "These are absolutely divine!"

A couple other housewives took bites of theirs and rang out in agreements while he just shrugged.

"No, that was Simon. I don't cook."

"Ooh, I'm so jealous!" Mary laughed. "I can't get John anywhere near the kitchen. We have to order in if I'm not the one cooking."

"How did you convince him to do the cooking?" Judith asked with her eyes wide in sincerity.

Baz just wanted to sigh. "He's always liked cooking. I didn't force or otherwise compel him to do it."

"You're so lucky!" the women chanted and Baz found himself once more wondering why he was still in here with the ladies. They were nice enough, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they pulled him into their group because they saw him as one of the ladies.

"Does he clean, too?" Karen laughed with her nasally laugh.

Baz grimaced just thinking of Simon's idea of cleaning.

"Absolutely not," he stated flatly. "He and I have very different ideas of cleanliness."

This was apparently amusing to the flock of hens and they were all laughing heartily and roasting their husbands' cleaning abilities. Baz downed another glass of champagne and wondered if there was anything more boring than making jokes about _cleaning_ habits. Maybe watching paint dry?

It wasn't that Simon was messy, either. He was a relatively clean fellow, although, probably a little more in line with the stereotypical "male" ideal of cleanliness. He didn't forget to flush and didn't leave his stuff all over the house. It's just that he couldn't really keep straight which directions the utensils needed to be facing, the exact folding technique needed for the towels, or any other number of things that Baz found absolutely necessary to keep his neurosis in line.

"You know, I've always wondered how gay people divvied up the house and work responsibilities," Karen added thoughtfully. "It's so interesting!"

There was so much wrong wrapped up in that single statement, but Baz couldn't help but get fixated on one point.

"He's not gay," Baz stated stiffly. All the women stared at him in shock and with gaping mouths and he took a deep breath before clarifying. "He's bisexual. Simon is."

"O-oh," Mary laughed a bit nervously.

"You're so much braver than I am!" Karen replied with another grating laugh. "I would never be able to really trust a bisexual, you know? I mean, aren't you ever worried that he's going to want to go back to wanting a woman?"

Patricia squirmed uncomfortably at the topic and Baz tried to tamp down on his flaring temper.

"No," he replied with the last vestiges of calmness he could muster. "I'm not concerned about my husband suddenly deciding to leave me for no reason other than the desire to fuck a vagina."

He turned on his heel amidst the incredulous gasps and uncomfortable glances and made his way towards Simon. He was already sick of this party, of these people, and of this whole fucking façade of a perfect life. Was this what he was supposed to want for the rest of his life? Were these the peers he had to allow his future child or children to grow up around and be influenced by? 

And what was he supposed to do about the family business when this child or children got old enough to get involved? Was he going to keep them out of it? Break the news to poor Simon and try to bring them into the Grimm and Pitch family fold?

Baz just wanted to get out of there and go home. Despite the tension between him and Simon lately, home was where he felt safe and comfortable. There was a big job tomorrow and he needed to be 100% focused to ensure that it went down without a hitch. He didn't need any other excuses to be distracted.

Thankfully, Simon caught his eye and nodded. He made his hasty and half-hearted goodbyes before they were both rushing out of the perfectly styled home and speed walking to their own house.

"Merlin almighty," Simon muttered, his hand firm on Baz's lower back.

That brought an almost hysterical giggle to the taller man's lips and he threw his arm around Simon's shoulders. "Maybe we can find out when the next damn party is and then schedule a lobotomy or something," Baz replied.

He was quietly thrilled when Simon guffawed in response before pinching Baz's ribs.

"Did you know that you're a super gay, Baz?"

"A what?" Baz laughed incredulously.

"Yup. Super gay. Is that your real job, being a superhero?" Simon teased and Baz felt his heart leap into his throat. The comment was a little too close to comfort (although he was more likely to be considered a villain, he supposed).

"Ah, you've caught me, love. Super gay, hmmm."

"Did the ladies at least have something entertaining to talk about?"

"Oh yes," Baz sighed as he rolled his grey eyes. "They were discussing the likelihood of you deciding to up and leave me for a nice pair of tits."

An annoyed growl and a few colorful words bubbled up from the shorter man and Baz felt the warm embers of affection in his gut.

"You know that I wouldn't do that, right?" Simon stated while jerking to a halt at their front door. He pulled Baz up against him and looked up into his husband's eyes with a fierce determination. "I'm never going to leave you, Baz."

Trying not to blush like a love-struck tween, Baz grinned and squeezed Simon back. "I know, love."

"You'll never be rid of me," Simon laughed as he rocked them back and forth a bit.

"Ugh, you're a pest!" Baz laughed back, falling into rhythm with his husband easily. "An absolute menace."

"It's your penance for being an asshole," came the witty reply, those blue eyes dancing with mirth.

"Well, lucky me."

He leaned down and claimed those pretty lips, enjoying the comfort they brought. It was a relief to feel some of the playfulness sparking between them after so much tension and head-butting. Maybe the talk with the couples' councilor had worked after all? It's not like they actually got very far beyond disagreeing on how long they've been married ( _six_ years) and awkwardly trying to figure out when the last time they had sex was, but hey they were kissing again.

The warm glow of affection remained between them as they prepared for bed and Baz was thankful that Simon didn't complain about him keeping his side-table light on when they were finally in bed. The younger man just curled up in a tight ball on his side and placed the eye mask Baz had purchased for him years ago over his eyes. Feeling extra affectionate, Baz placed a hand softly against the back of Simon's neck as he read.

Simon had a job in Atlanta tomorrow so it would probably be late before he got back in. Maybe he should pick up dinner and surprise Simon with that? He could even get those scones that his husband was obsessed with. Smiling softly into the book, Baz allowed his brain to fall into the pattern of picking apart his plan for tomorrow's hit and reconstructing it so that he could be sure it would all go well. 

Adding dinner and scones to that list would work just fine.


	6. Part 5

"Crowley, it's so fucking hot," Baz grumbled as he made a few adjustments on the computer in front of him. 

The sun was beating down harshly and reflecting on the beige sand and the ruddy rocks. He dabbed at his sweaty neck with a handkerchief and took a peek with his binoculars to make sure that the convoy was still headed in this direction. The charges had been a pain in the arse to place, but they were set to take out the entire convoy of transporters. 

Humbert Drummond would most likely be kept in the middle vehicle with at least two guards flanking him but none of that would offer any protection from the bombs. Baz glanced back down at the picture of the target and shook his head. These targets seemed to get younger and younger every year. This bastard looked somewhat similar to Simon, with that head of bronze hair and the glow of baby blue eyes. 

It was strange that this man didn't have anything in his dossier that explained why exactly he was wanted for a hit. Sensitive jobs like this came on occasion, but they usually weren't something that Baz dealt with. Fiona was more of the "don't ask, don't tell" kind of hit person. Baz liked as much information as he could gather; it helped him to plan for the variables better.

There were always a lot of variables and Baz liked to minimize unexpected ones if he could. Besides the man's name and the request for the hit there wasn't much offered on him. Did he belong to some family that would want retaliation? Did he have any self-defense training? Was he a biological warfare specialist?

These questions were part of the reason that he decided to go the route of placing bombs. It wouldn't be traced back to anyone in particular but the shrapnel they might recover could suggest any number of potential organizations. There would be no conclusive way to pin this on him or even the Grimm-Pitch organization. Also, the bombs wouldn't be hindered by any knowledge of warfare or self-defense. 

Pushing the reflective sunglasses further up his nose again (damn sweat kept making it slip down), Baz settled himself in a bit better position for the time. The convoy was still a good distance away but he didn't want to lose focus yet. 

There was a long list of things that he needed to think through in regards to making sure the Snow house was perfect and ready for a potential home visit if they went with an adoption. 

"Great snakes," he muttered under his breath as he rubbed the skin of his wrist with the opposite hand's thumb. It was already tender from all the rubbing he'd already done that day. "You've got the whole flight back home to stress about this, Basilton. Get a grip on yourself." 

The unexpected roar of a small engine caught his attention and Baz straightened up and glanced around the desert scenery. No one was supposed to be here! Did the convoy send out scouts to look for someone like him? 

"Tyrannus, we've got motion detected near you," Dev crackled over the headset. 

"I can hear what sounds like a small engine but the damned rocks are echoing the sound and I can't get a good read on direction," Baz replied sharply.

"Hell, you've got someone in a dune buggy."

"Fucking civilians," Baz growled as the dune buggy drove into view. "I thought we were well out of the tourist range!"

"That's a positive, Tyrannus, but sometimes locals like to go exploring a bit further."

Pulling his hand off the rifle he'd grabbed automatically, Baz instead grabbed his binoculars and zoomed in on the intruder.

"We need to get rid of him before he-" The alarms began sounding as the dune buggy carelessly hit one of the triggers for the charges. "Motherfucking piece of shit," Baz hissed as he rushed to his computer and manually disabled the countdown. 

"Do you kiss your husband with that mouth?" Dev laughed as Baz continued to swear up a storm. 

"That fucking idiot," Baz hissed as he finally got the countdown shut off. "Now I'm going to have to manually...fuck! I need to get rid of him before the convoy gets much closer."

"How are you wanting to accomplish that, cuz?"

Baz pulled up his binoculars and tried once more to get a good look at that bastard. "Maybe I can tranquilize him? Oh fuck, really?"

Dev began laughing as he took in the images being transmitted to his computer back at the home base. 

"Come on, man! When nature calls you've got to obey."

"He should have gone to the fucking bathroom before his little romp out here!" he growled as he watched the back of the man tucking himself back into his stupid cargo shorts. "Wait, maybe he's leaving."

The man was strutting back to his dune buggy and Baz hoped that this would be the last he saw of the fucker. He was in the middle of a highly sensitive job and needed to get those sensors back to working order as soon as possible!

"Just admit that you were checking out that fine ass," Dev teased. "I'm sure that Simon will forgive your little indiscretion."

The man grabbed something from the rickety vehicle before turning back towards Baz's hideout in an abandoned scientific outlook. The high-tech binoculars beeped in warning only seconds before Baz's eyes widened in shock. 

"Oh shit, not a citizen!" he yelped as he took in the heavy duty bazooka resting on the man's shoulder as casually as could be. Baz dropped the binoculars immediately and snatched up his sniper rifle. With a few efficient clicks the weapon was primed and ready to take out its target. 

Ignoring Dev's inane chatter, Baz narrowed his focus on the man's chest. He placed the aim right at the heart and without hesitating drew back the trigger. The shot rang out just as the man fell backwards with the force of the impact. 

There wasn't any blood, but before he could lock in for a head shot the bastard rolled out of the way and behind a large stone. The bazooka head peeked around the rock and a puff of smoke burst out from the back end.

"Oh shit!" Baz cried before scrambling up and dashing out of the building only moments before it exploded. 

*****

"Motherfucking, ow!" Simon yelled at the smoldering remains of the outpost where his assailant had been perched. 

He wobbled on his feet a bit as he turned to try to get a gauge on if he still had a shot at taking down the convoy and the target. His chest was shooting with terrible pain and he thanked his lucky stars that the other hit person hadn't used an armor piercing bullet.

Before he even got his eyes set on the convoy the ground began to tremble and the whole area went up in the force of an explosion. Simon dropped to the ground and covered his head before being showered by a wave of sand and rocks. He let out another slew of curse words and rolled onto his feet shakily before he heard the roar of a dirt bike and barely caught sight of a person riding off hastily.

An attempt to sprint to the dune buggy left him with a face full of dirt and a few more uttered curses. How was he going to explain this bruise to Baz? And fuck, leaving a witness never ended well. He finished scrambling to the dune buggy before noting that the convoy was already turned around and booking it in the opposite direction. He was never going to catch up to them, damn it! 

A few hastily punched numbers on his sat phone had Penelope answering curiously. "Simon? Aren't you supposed to be-"

"There was another fucking person on the contract!" he yelled angrily while squeezing into the dune buggy. "No one said there would be multiple contracts!"

"Are you sure? That shouldn't-"

"I've got a fucking bruise the size of Alaska that says 'yes' to that Pen!" He let out a slew of curse words as he drove through the uneven terrain as fast as he could back to his armored vehicle. What if that bastard got to his vehicle before he did and wired it? "And Drummond got away, so I'm fucked!"

"Shit!" she hissed before he heard some frantic clacking on her end. "There's nothing here that says there were multiple contracts out so maybe there's a contract out on you?"

"If not, then there will be," he gruffed.

"You've got 48 hours before the Mage's Men will step in for clean up," she responded a bit tightly. "Get back ASAP and I'll help you."

"Thanks," he groaned as another jerk of the vehicle shot pain through his bruised rib cage. "I'll see you in a few."

"Be safe, Simon."

For the first time on a mission Simon wondered if he really would be.

*****

"That bitch!" Baz shouted angrily as he stomped through the hall and towards the main war room. "I want every fucking second of footage we have on him available on my computer right this second!"

"Tyrannus," Dev tried to interrupt with a phone held in his hand.

Trixie was doing her best to tend to the bleeding gash on her boss' shoulder, their height difference not making it an easy task.

"There should be a team already on their way over there to collect any evidence," he barked out to another one of the employees who was already trembling from his explosive rage. Tyrannus rarely ever got into these moods but all of those working under the flag of the Grimm family knew better than to get in his crosshairs when he was in this state.

"Tyrannus!"

"What, Dev?!" he growled as he wheeled on his cousin.

Dev winced and held out the phone. "It's your dad."

The room went quiet and Baz took a deep calming breath as he snatched the phone out of his cousin's hand. "Hello?"

"You've made quite the mess, Basilton," Malcolm Grimm uttered sharply from the other end of the phone.

"It's nothing I can't handle, sir," he responded tightly.

"You know our rules," Malcolm retorted. "And I can't hold you above them, either. You've got 48 hours to clean up your mess."

"The target-"

"I told you that there was only one shot at the target, Basilton!" His angry tone smarted against Baz and he had to really work at not flinching while all eyes were on him. "Drummond is off the table now, but you need to make sure that you take out the other hit person and get rid of any evidence that might tie us to that failed hit."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't fail me twice," Malcolm warned and Baz felt the heat of shame on his cheeks.

"I won't." The dial tone rang in his ear before he handed the phone back to Dev. With another deep breath he turned his intense gaze on the other agents. "Now, do I have that footage on my desk yet? And is that team out there like I fucking asked for?"

Everyone was scrambling once more and Baz struggled to keep his composure. He needed to get all of this sorted out and not just for his sake, but for Simon's too. He was mostly sure that the Grimm family would continue to protect him, but if Malcolm had to step in and decided that he needed to shed his life and start over in a new place and under a new cover it would be horribly painful to explain to Simon. They'd have to cancel all their plans, Simon would need to take a new name and a new career, and even their plans for a baby would probably be pushed out for several more years.

Even worse, Simon might be so hurt and upset that he might just leave Baz. 

Gritting his teeth, Baz strode to his computer and began analysis on the man he saw out there. This bastard wasn't going to come between him and Simon if he had anything to say about it.


	7. Part 6

"Okay, so what do you think, Penny?"

"Did you microwave this laptop on your way over here?" she asked blandly as she worked on trying to salvage the electronic device. 

"Sorry that I tried to blow the fucker up with my bazooka," he replied with a roll of his eyes. "He was obviously trying to kill me, so I was a bit preoccupied with keeping myself alive."

"Yeah, didn't leave much for me to sort out," she sighed. 

"Usually my destructive capabilities are a good thing," Simon sighed. 

"Yeah, but not when we need evidence." There was silence for a moment before the two of them giggled. 

"That's why the Mage keeps me the hell away from those missions that require..."

"Finesse," Penelope finished with her own giggle. 

"Yeah, that."

"Oh, hey!" she exclaimed happily. "Here's a piece that didn't get melted!" She pulled out the number code and began looking into her computer for more information. "I think that I can get some information on the person who purchased this," she murmured.

"I don't need much to find that fucker," Simon stated as he cracked his knuckles. "And I need to take him down before he has a chance to find me. I'm not going to put Baz in danger, Penny." 

He had been willing to risk going back to the scene of the attack as soon as he checked his armored vehicle in order to get this information, and Simon was going to damn well make sure that it was used to keep his family safe.

"I know, I know..." Her fingers flew across the keyboard and she pursed her lips in thought.

"You'd really like Baz," he sighed softly, "if you gave him a chance, you know."

"It's not a good idea to mix your private life and work life, Simon," she sighed. "You know what the Mage has to say about that."

"I know," Simon mumbled. "But...it just doesn't make sense. I love him and I love you. Surely it's not wrong to want you both."

"That's why the Mage wasn't all that thrilled with you getting married in the first place, Simon." 

He leaned back and sighed as he stared at the blank and somewhat depressing ceiling. It'd been a while since they'd had this conversation, but he couldn't help bringing it up over and over again, hoping that Penny would change her mind. 

"What about when the baby comes?" he mused quietly. "How are you supposed to be a godmother if you aren't even in their life?"

"Simon!" she hissed as she wheeled around in her chair. "I thought that you said those discussions weren't all that serious! That he was focusing on building up his company right now!"

The bronze-haired man shrugged and tried to not let his discomfort show. "Well, he's doing pretty good and I think...maybe it's time."

"Do you even _like_ children?" she laughed nervously while pushing her glasses up. "You've never even been around them! You actively avoid my siblings and they're not anywhere near as young as a baby!"

"We could adopt an older kid," he defended. She raised an eyebrow and he shrugged again. "Okay, so we haven't exactly talked about that, but we could!"

"But you have been talking! About babies!"

"Yeah, and any baby of mine would be much better off with you in their life and that's not going to happen if you keep avoiding Baz!"

Penelope placed her hands on her plump hips in annoyance.

"Okay, besides the inherent danger in having a double life like this that could literally put your husband's life in danger, can't you see how adding a _child_ to the mix is even more dangerous?! Baz is a full grown man and as soft as his stupid posh hands look they can probably still throw a punch! Babies are helpless!"

Simon felt offended on Baz's behalf over the hands comment. "Penny, just because he moisturizes doesn't mean his hands aren't strong! Fuck, I mean, he used to just pin me down and make me cry-"

"STOP RIGHT THERE!!!" she screeched while putting her hands over her ears. "I don't want to hear about your sex life!"

"I was talking about him working those knots out of my back," Simon stated pointedly with a roll of his eyes. "I haven't had one that's lasted since we got married."

"I'm sure, Simon."

"But for the record, his hands are great during sex too."

"I...don't want to know. I really don't."

Her computer beeped and Simon leaned over her shoulder. "Whatcha got."

"I've got an address: 570 Lexington Avenue, Suite 5003." Simon blinked in confusion and stared at the address on the screen. "What, does that sound familiar? Do you know who's at that address?"

"Uh, no," he replied softly. "I'll go look into it right now. Thanks for the help."

"No problem. Just be careful, okay?"

"Will do."

With that Simon was off as quickly as he could manage. The drive to the address in the city was nerve wracking and he couldn't help the feeling of dread that swelled in his chest even when he parked at the lot near the familiar building. Keeping his sunglasses perched high on his nose as he walked casually to the lobby, Simon glanced around at all of the seemingly normal people going about their business. 

He sidled up to the directory and stared at the list of offices before his breath caught in his throat.

"Holy shit," he whispered, fingers tracing over the suite number plate, the company and name clear as could be. 

HIGH RISE TECHNOLOGY CO.  
BASILTON SNOW, CEO

*****

Baz sipped on his cup of espresso as his grey eyes took in the footage of the man that had pulled up in the dune buggy. One of his underlings was flipping through stills of the video footage and trying to highlight any discernible features that would help, and he tried to ignore the grating sounds of her pencil scratching on the pages. 

There hadn't been any definite facial images from the man regardless of the angle from the binoculars or the satellite footage Dev had managed to capture. Instead he was left studying the man's limited body language trying to find any hint of an identity. His lips twisted in thought as he watched the strut that looked so familiar. Had he met this man before?

"Elspeth, why don't you go check on the ground team for a minute," he ordered sternly as he stepped closer to the screen and tilted his head. 

She stepped away immediately and scuttled off while his frown deepened. Why did this guy have legs that looked as lovely as Simon's? Those legs were something hard to come by and...he paused the image and stared at that backside incredulously. There was a very familiar mole on the back of that right leg, 

"Baz?" Dev called out again from his office desk. "It's your husband."

"What?" Baz whispered as he stared at that blurry mole.

"Baz, your fucking husband is on the line and wants to let you know that he's back in town early. What time is dinner?"

"Holy shit," Baz breathed out in shock. "It's..." He took a calming breath before clearing his throat and speaking in a normal tone. "Dev, tell him that it's at 7pm."

"Sure thing."

Baz played the footage again and a scowl formed on his lips. "You little fuck," he growled. "I'll give you dinner, alright."

He was able to check out of the building with promises of being on the trail of his assailant and rushed home as quickly as possible. He inspected the property quickly and was grateful to see that Simon hadn't been back home yet today. With that, Baz set out the food he'd brought from his distant cousin's kitchen; the man was a professional chef and always prepared meals to his exact specifications when requested. The food was placed in the oven to keep warm while he showered and changed out the bandages to his wounds to make sure that no blood would seep through his clothing. 

With that accomplished, Baz made sure to put on a sharp outfit that he knew Simon liked. The slacks were tailored to perfection, meant to draw attention to his arse and even the temptation of his bulge. He'd already had Simon on his knees eagerly sucking him off in these slacks before, but that was regrettably almost a full year ago. He added a loose silk shirt over his torso and kept the top half of the buttons loose to expose his shapely chest and then added some double-sided tape that would keep it from fluttering too much and exposing the wounds on his shoulders and sides. 

Keeping an eye on the security camera that showed when someone was pulling into the driveway, he added a bit of makeup to his face to cover some of the scrapes and to highlight his best features. Next was tending to his hair, a process that he had to work to not hurry through. There was no use in being less than perfect - not when his greatest threat was soon to be stepping through that door. 

"Please let this be a misunderstanding," he murmured to his reflection during his final inspection. He didn't want to believe that his suspicions could be true, that his clumsy, sweet, simple husband was actually...was secretly...

An alert pinged and Baz swallowed thickly as he saw Simon's car pulling up.

It was time. He pulled the food out of the oven and prepared to serve it while also strapping a gun to his lower leg and a knife to his arm under the sleeve of his shirt. He started to sweat as the anxiety swelled. The door from the garage opened and Baz knew that he didn't have any more time to fuss and worry. 

"Hello, darling," Simon greeted, his smile cautious and his eyes sharp.

"Welcome home, love," Baz greeted with a sharp smile of his own.


	8. Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun! They finally confront each other!

"Hello, darling."

It was normally a good sign when Baz got home before he did, especially if he could smell the already prepared meal, but today it felt ominous. Usually days when they were both out late at work meant ordering pizza in, and Simon had made sure to be a good 10 minutes early for their scheduled dinner - plenty of time to get food ordered in. Instead, Baz was standing there at the door of the kitchen in an absolutely stunning outfit, a sharp flirty grin, and a glass of what appeared to be whiskey.

"Welcome home, love," Baz greeted, his smile getting a bit sharper.

Mental warning bells were going off like crazy as Simon stepped forward to accept the drink and press a chaste kiss to his husband's cheek. His eyes landed on a bottle of Drain-O casually sitting on the top of the table in the entryway and he swallowed thickly.

"Smells good," he choked out as Baz offered his cheek a soft peck.

"Thank you," the taller man purred before turning on his heel and striding towards the formal dining room with the same impossible and ridiculous grace that he did everything else. 

He didn't glance back and Simon hastily dumped the drink into the nearest potted plant before following his husband. Fuck, those were the same trousers he lost his mind over months ago, dropping to his knees and begging Baz to face fuck him! They were still deliciously snug and inviting and for half a second Simon forgot why he was even nervous.

_Damn him! He's purposely distracting me!_

Both men took their respective places at the ends of the table and Simon resisted the urge to glance around nervously for any hidden weapons or traps. With his confident smile plastered on, he slowly pulled the chair out to make sure that it wouldn't catch on any triggers. Baz just pulled out his chair and sat in it like a royal prince, without any hesitation. 

The roast beef set on the table was steaming and smelled absolutely delicious, but Simon forced himself not to get distracted by that either. It was his favorite! Fuck! "Accidentally" dropping his keys, he reached down to swipe them up before taking his seat and did a quick inspection under the table and his chair to ensure that there weren't any bombs or other wired devices.

There wasn't.

"How was your work trip, love?" Baz asked casually before taking a sip of his water. 

Simon sat heavily in his chair and focused his full attention on the other man. Baz was just so...stunning.

"Ah, we...ran into a little trouble."

"Oh?"

Simon swallowed thickly, watching those facial features carefully. He'd spent years studying that face and learning everything there was to learn about Baz.

"Yeah, it seemed like the client double booked us for the job."

An elegant eyebrow rose.

"That's interesting," he replied smoothly with that posh voice.

It was a reminder that Baz was cut from a different cloth from him, although...maybe not quite as different as Simon once thought. The bronze-haired assassin discreetly tucked the steak knife beside his plate up his sleeve. As much suspicion as he had about Baz at the moment, Simon hadn't been able to bring himself to actually arm himself for dinner. It felt horribly rude to bring a gun or something else with the intention of killing your husband, especially if somehow he was wrong about this entire mess.

"How was work for you today, darling?"

That eyebrow didn't relax. "Oddly enough, we had a very similar issue with one of our clients," Baz replied with a longsuffering sigh. Those grey eyes narrowed. "People these days. You just can't trust them."

_Ouch. Bastard._

"Maybe it was an honest mistake?" 

Simon glanced over the other man's face carefully and noted that Baz was wearing a bit of makeup. Was he trying to hide injuries from the explosion? Fucking hell, had he shot a bazooka missile at his own damn husband?! Baz didn't _look_ hurt, but maybe...

"I somehow doubt that attempting to blow up our servers was an accident, love," Baz almost sneered.

"Let me serve that wine," Simon chuckled nervously before standing up and grabbing the bottle chilling at the table in an ice bucket. 

Those stormy eyes were watching his every move and Simon couldn't help but notice that Baz was missing a steak knife too. What was the world coming to? This was Baz! His husband! Computer nerd, flower arranger, home decorator, curator of lists - BAZ. Yes, the man was deadly competitive and very capable but...an assassin? 

Popping the cork loudly next to the still-seated man, Simon couldn't help but do something stupid. They were dancing around something tonight, something that he was really hoping wasn't what he thought it was. His fingers went slack around the slick bottle and it dropped towards the floor. 

Baz's eyes never left Simon's but his hand automatically whipped out and snatched the bottle mid-drop. Both of their eyes widened and for a moment Simon was sure that he forgot how to breathe. Baz looked frightened for half a second before the bottle slipped out of his elegant musician's hands and spilled all over their cream-colored carpet. 

"I'll get some napkins," Baz stated as he pushed away from the table and practically ran to the kitchen. 

"I'll get some..." Shit, he couldn't even think up a proper excuse, but it didn't matter. Simon raced to the office where he kept a pistol hidden away and then peeked out of the room barrel first. "Darling? Baz?" His shoes sounded too loud on the tile of the foyer and he couldn't tell where Baz was in the house. "Shit!" he yelped as the roar of the Jaguar sounded from the garage before it was peeling out of the driveway and down the road. "BAZ!!!"

*****

"I'm so stupid," Baz hissed to himself, tears burning in his eyes as he jerked the steering wheel. "How could I be so stupid?!"

A couple of tears spilled out as he jerked carelessly around the street corner. He needed to get back to headquarters, somewhere that he could think! Baz's peripheral vision caught sight of Simon vaulting through the yards of neighbors, his mouth moving in what suspiciously looked like Baz's name, but he wasn't going to just stop the damn car! Simon was holding a fucking pistol, and rather sloppily at that. 

Should he be running through the backyards of families with his gun out like that? What about the neighbors who had pets?

Tires squealed as Baz had to drift around another corner. He was driving far too fast for this neighborhood and he was distracted at that. Damn it all! He couldn't afford to run over a jogging Mrs. Nightly and her dog. 

Would this be considered a marital spat?

The sheer idea made him laugh hysterically even as a couple more tears rolled down his cheeks. He needed to get to the office and back to his family. He needed some time to sort this out. Was Simon trying to kill him? Was he a job and Simon was fulfilling a contract? 

That thought cut him more deeply than anything else had. Did the past six years mean nothing? All of their laughter, their love, their promises of forever...

A bullet ricocheted off the windshield and Baz slammed on the breaks in shock and fear. It took his brain a few short seconds to realize that he had been shot at. Simon was shooting at him!!! Grey eyes looked forward and caught sight of his husband hanging off a ruined white fence and kicking his way through the pickets. Blue eyes were widened in shock and Simon put both hands in the air, including the one holding the gun. 

"No, no, that was an accident!" he shouted at Baz. "An accident, okay?" Baz just sneered at him and Simon gulped. "Let's talk this out, baby, okay?"

Baz stomped down on the gas pedal, his rage almost bringing actual warmth to his body. Simon shot at him! The fucker had actually shot at him!

"No!" Simon tried sternly, his hands still up. "Don't do this, Baz! It was a fucking accident!" The Jaguar only sped up and by the set of that snarling mouth and flash of those eyes Simon knew that he was in for it. 

It wasn't his first time getting hit by a car (or even the second) and Simon was grateful for the experiences in his life that allowed him to take the hit with minimal damage. He was going to be sore for a good fucking week after an impact like that, but he rolled over the roof of the car and landed on the asphalt in a graceless heap.

Offering the rear view mirror a glance, Baz couldn't help himself. "Oops," he shot back sarcastically before continuing on his drive to the office. 

He probably should have been more concerned about having run his husband over with the Jaguar, but a tiny portion of his brain was impressed and almost a little bit proud that Simon seemed to know to to properly take a hit from a vehicle. It wasn't an easy thing to do, but he saw the way those thighs flexed, that jump, and that roll that allowed most of the momentum to pass right through him. 

Simon would probably be a bit sore, but he would be just fine.

The thought both made him proud and infuriated him.

*****

"Nicks and Slicks!" Penelope gasped as she dragged Simon into the apartment with her.

"Damn it, Penny!" he groaned, clutching at his ribs as he limped in and then collapsed on her couch. "Motherfucking shit!"

She pulled her robe more tightly around her body, and then after a quick glance outside, she shut the door and turned all the locks and deadbolts. 

"Do I need to get the med kit?"

"No, I don't need a fucking bandage, Pen!" he shouted in agitation before dropping his head in his scraped up hands. "I...I need my husband."

"He tried to kill you, Simon! There's no denying it now! He's a fucking hitman and you've been his target!"

"That just...it doesn't make any sense, Penny! If he wanted to kill me, he would have already!"

How many times had he been fast asleep in bed, completely at the mercy of the other man? Or those few times he'd been so sick and Baz stayed home from work to take care of him? Someone out to get you wouldn't wait so long! It wouldn't make sense to have an end game this long!

"Maybe he's been trying to collect data on Watford?" she asked, while rubbing her temples carefully under the frames of her glasses. "You're the top hitman in the organization so it would make sense to try to get information from you."

"I don't...it can't be, Penny. It just can't! Not Baz."

"He ran you over, Simon!" she screamed in frustration. "There's obviously no love lost there!"

"Baz was just pissed because I accidentally shot at him!"

All those damned toys in the yard had tripped him up and made him run right into the fence instead of vaulting over it as planned. The impact to his gut had made his hand clench and unfortunately that had resulted in a bullet to the Jag's windshield. 

"You're just trying to make excuses for him!" Penny nearly screamed. "I've always said that there was something off with him and I was right, dammit! He! Tried! To! Kill! You!"

A memory from their wedding flashed through Simon's mind - Baz brushing his bangs to the side nervously only to look up and melt in relaxation at the sight of Simon walking towards him. Their hands came together and Simon thought that he could never be happier in his life.

Now it just hurt.

"You know what, Pen? You're right! That fucking bitch is trying to kill me! And I'm not going to let him!"

"That's right, Simon! We're not going to let him get away with this!"

Simon stumbled up from the couch while grumbling under his breath and shuffled through her coat closet before coming out with an AK-47.

"I'm killing that bastard tonight!" he growled and marched right out her front door. Two seconds later he limped back into the house. "Maybe...I'll kill him tomorrow," he groaned. "I need some sleep first. And maybe...some Ibuprofen."

"No sleeping," Penelope snapped. "We need to come up with a plan!"

*****

"Dang," Dev sighed as he handed Baz a third cup of tea.

The mascara was running and it was now time to add a splash of whiskey and a box of tissues. 

"He shot at me!" Baz exclaimed for the 100th time. "I mean, it was probably an accident, but how stupid do you have to be to run through your neighbors' yards with a fucking gun?!"

"Mmmhmm," Dev agreed wordlessly and his tongue nervously fiddled with his lip ring. He was still trying to wrap his mind around Simon Snow being a hitman out to get Baz.

Baz's cup made a frightened crackling noise as the man clutched it tightly. "He tried to kill me..." 

Those grey eyes stared into the dark liquid and Baz tried to get all of his thoughts into some semblance of order. His mind was always racing and it was so easy to get trapped in the endless loops of trying to categorize and rank all of his thoughts for hours on end, but with Simon...

Warm arms would wrap around him, plush lips would kiss at the back of his neck and those rough hands would carefully loosen his own clenched hands and slowly work out the tension with firm but tender circles.

What purpose did that serve for someone trying to kill him? How did all those nights completely wrapped up in each other help? Why have such a long con? There had been more than ample opportunity to take him out! He had stupidly let down his guard completely with Simon and it would have been embarrassingly simple to kill or capture him. An embarrassment to the entire Pitch and Grimm families! Fiona would have saved him just to kill him herself if he had been captured in such a way!

"Maybe he was trying to get info on the family?" Dev questioned as he scratched the back of his head. Niall was out of country or he would have been there too. "More like an info recon?"

"Could be," Baz sighed before sipping the tea and then setting it aside to dab at his eyes. "What did Father say?"

"You've still got your 48 hours to clean up this mess." The cousins both sighed again and Dev picked at the frayed cuts along his white skinny jeans. "After that I think he's getting Fiona involved to take out Simon."

Fear clenched at Baz's chest regardless of how many times he tried to reason that this was all protocol. Simon was just _faking_ being his husband and that fucker deserved every bit of hell that rained down on him. No one messed with the Grimms or Pitches (much less both of them!) and came out of it alive. 

But his traitorous mind offered up a memory from their wedding. He was brushing his bangs aside nervously, wondering why the hell he was willing to throw reason and discretion by the wayside for some guy he met only a few weeks ago, when he heard the solid and confident footsteps. Those weren't the steps of an assassin. Simon was walking towards him with a cock-sure smile and it seemed like every worry melted away in the heat of this man's confidence. In that moment he knew that this was the best decision he was ever going to make in his life.

Now he felt stupid and used. 

It hurt.

"I need to get some rest," Baz muttered as he grabbed a couple of makeup removing wipes from his emergency kit. "I need to get started early."

Dev nodded. "I'll get you some blankets, Baz." He glanced back over his shoulder worriedly as he paused at the doorway of their office, hating to see his usually cool and collected cousin stifling his sobs in the wipes. 

"You d-don't love him," Baz gasped quietly and Dev felt his heart rip apart.

Simon was going to fucking pay for hurting his cousin. He tapped open his phone screen and sent out texts to Fiona and Niall.


	9. Part 8

The morning light was still too bright for Baz as he marched up to his front door with grave resolve. He shoved the oversized sunglasses further up on his nose and tried to ignore just how dry his cried-out eyes were. The small group of agents that he'd been in charge of for the past six years followed closely behind and kept their own sunglasses up to better protect their identities. It was odd to think that this small group of people had been one of the most effective teams that operated under the helm ship of his Father and the Grimm family. Dev helped Rhys roll up the stairway and Baz felt a twinge of embarrassment that in the couple of years they'd lived here he hadn't bothered to try to make it a more accessible home. 

How had he ever thought that he and Simon were ready for a baby when he couldn't even be bothered to be considerate of other adults? 

It wasn't like he could ever invite Rhys over for a casual dinner, but still. It was the principle of the matter. He nervously scratched at the already red skin of his wrist for a few seconds before finally gathering the courage to open his home up for the inspection of the team. Thankfully they were all kind enough not to say anything about his hesitation, and just began setting up their equipment at the foyer.

"You know the drill," Dev stated easily as he pulled up the checklist on his tablet. 

He began barking out the orders and for once Baz didn't try to micromanage. Dev Grimm had been in the business just as long as he had and had a pretty decent record of hits as well, but after Baz had disobeyed his father and married Simon, things changed. Baz was forced into building his own small team and keeping it away from the rest of the family and Dev took the position of Second Point under Baz. It had been a highly sentimental move and not for the first time Baz found himself grateful.

Dev was an utter prat, had always been. Where Baz had always felt the weight of his family's expectations and struggled to fulfill them while still being his own individual, Dev was the wild child of the cousins. Always the first one to do anything, family business or otherwise, known as a bit of a wild card, absolutely uncontrollable - Dev did whatever the hell he wanted and it was only by luck that he wanted to stay on the same side as his family.

Baz stared blankly at his cousin as he barked out orders for things they were looking for. It was probably thanks to Aunt Fiona that Dev was still with the family instead of off being an extreme athlete or already dead. The wild woman was another highly individualistic person that had been barely reigned in for their good purposes and after she started getting more involved in Tyrannus' life, Dev had taken to her like a blood relative. 

It was best for the family interests that Dev and Fiona stayed on opposite sides of the planet so that they couldn't get into messy shit together, but Baz also had to admit that it had been good for him and Dev to work together. They pushed each other past their comfort zones but also complimented each other in ways that covered for any weaknesses. 

Born only months apart and still nearly attached at the hip - cousins and best friends.

Baz sniffled as he tried to keep himself from crying again. Even if Simon had betrayed him and had always intended to kill him, Dev would be here. And he knew that if Niall hadn't been absorbed by his Father's larger operation back in their home country of England then he would be here as well. 

The team moved forward as efficiently as always, diving the rooms of the house into sections and clearing them out. Baz had to take some of his heavy duty anxiety meds to deal with them _touching_ and _moving_ his stuff as they searched for any hidden weapon caches and all the information that they could get on Simon. 

Needing to get away from the scene of Rhys sorting through all the family photos and looking behind the pictures for any hidden cameras or fake documents, Baz nearly choked on his spit to see Elspeth and Marcus standing in his bedroom and watching his wedding video.

"What are you doing?" he grit through his teeth as carefully as his frazzled nerves could manage. 

They both looked at him in surprise.

"Research," Elspeth explained. "Background on the target."

"It's your wedding," Marcus explained slowly as if Baz hadn't watched that video at least a hundred times.

"I know it's my wedding," he growled. "And you were there, Marcus."

"Yes, but the video might be hiding some important information."

"Out," he growled menacingly. 

"But-"

"If you have any questions about my fucking wedding, then just ask me." He took a deep breath and pointed towards the door. "This room is off limits. Do your job in the rest of the house."

Thankfully, the two opted not to question him and were out in short order while throwing concerned glances to each other. At the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care because it felt like the whole world was crashing down on him. There was no sanctuary for him anymore, nothing private or sacred. Co-workers were combing through every inch of his life, looking for information that he had been apparently too stupid to find and it hurt too much. 

They'd only had this house for a couple of years and those years had seemed the hardest, but this bedroom was still _his and Simon's_ space. They made love in this room, they argued, they slept with their backs to each other, they spent lazy mornings in each other's arms, they whispered about having children...

Grey eyes glanced up at the television opposite of the bed and watched as they held hands in front of the minister. 

"I promise," Baz on the screen said with a shy smile. It had humiliated Baz for years that such a vulnerable expression had actually been captured on film, but it always seemed to make Simon a bit weepy with emotion.

The minister was turning to Simon now, and just like the Baz on the screen, Mr. Baz Snow couldn't take his eyes off those blue eyes and that crooked smile. 

"I promise," Simon said with no hesitation. 

There was no hint of a lie or plans of misdeeds. Simon looked nothing but lovestruck and when they exchanged rings he even hiccupped a bit of a sob. Baz slammed on the power button of the remote, not wanting to see anything else.

*****

"Excuse me," came a grating voice that Dev recognized as he dumped a load of cleared out rubbish into the bins.

A woman and man were drawing closer and the young Grimm had to remind himself not to call them Mr. and Mrs. Fucktard like he always did in his head. 

"What's up?" he smacked out, making sure to tongue at the loop in his lower lip. 

The man's eyes were drawn to his lips uncomfortably and the woman's face tightened unnaturally. She was definitely getting Botox. 

"We're the neighbors and just wondered what was going on," Karen pressed on. "Are the Snows okay?"

There was absolutely no motion going on in her forehead and Dev tried not to fixate on that.

"Yeah," he replied lazily and tucked his thumbs in his skinny jeans' belt loops. 

Chad swallowed thickly and Dev wanted to laugh. Bloody hell, no wonder this fucker always had crap to say about Baz - he was a freakin' closet case with a bunch of internalized homophobia. And it looked like maybe he thought about Baz a bit too much from the way he was eyeballing Dev.

"A-are you, er," Chad stumbled over his words and Karen gave him an annoyed look. 

At least, with the minimal movement of her face Dev assumed it was annoyance. Maybe the missus knew about her husband's wandering eyes? 

"Just a bit of remodeling," Dev added in the hopes that the Fucktards would take the hint and get lost. "For a garden party or something."

"Do you have a c-card?" Chad asked and Dev had to smother his laugh with a fake cough into his elbow. 

"Sorry, babe," he teased, "I'm out of state. Just came to do a favor."

It was really too bad that Baz was in such a wretched state, Dev bemoaned. That brat would have loved to see Karen practically dragging her husband by the bollocks back to their house.


	10. Part 9

Simon waited an hour after Baz and his crew left the house before he knocked on Chad's door and kindly asked if he was interested in getting a house tour.

"Oh, you mean before the remodeling gets finished?"

Simon planted a what-can-you-do-grin on his face. "We seem to always be in a state of remodeling, so I honestly don't notice anymore. I just thought that we've been neighbors for years and I've never given you the tour, so why not today!"

"Sure!" Chad agreed heartily.

"Thanks, man!"

Taking special care at the front door to ensure that any booby traps would take out the neighbor first, Simon went through the house inspecting for tampering while absentmindedly providing what he hoped was a decent enough tour.

"These floors look so good!" Chad admired with a gaping mouth. Simon felt a little flare of pleasure that this bastard could at least recognize Baz's quality work. "Is it teak?"

"Red oak," Simon corrected as he glanced behind the curtains. 

It was disorienting to be in the house now that it had been ransacked. There were fewer decorative items and their overflowing trash bins informed Simon that the Grimm's people had been on the hunt for all of his hidden weapons. Fuck it all, they probably cleaned him out.

They talked about the tile in the kitchen and the gigantic television that Simon and Baz never bothered to watch because they were too busy. The conversation rolled over to the supposed upcoming garden party and whether Baz's planner (Dev, from the sounds of it) was going to be attending. With the house mostly cleared Simon was able to send Chad on his merry way before he went to the garden shed and groaned at the mess. 

Sure, tidy up the house after they ransacked it, but leave the garden shed a disaster! Simon muttered a string of unkind words as he picked through the leftover rubbish and noted that they had gotten a hold of all of the weapons he stored in here. They seemed to have missed a few in the house, but he couldn't blame them. It seemed like a rather small crew working such a short amount of time in order to try to track him down and Simon almost felt insulted. 

Baz was annoyed with him and his way of doing things often enough, but did he really think that Simon was incompetent? A complete fuckup? He wouldn't have even gotten hit by that fucking car if he hadn't been so certain that Baz was _not_ going to attempt to actually run him over. Was it so wrong to have faith in your husband? 

Apparently if you were both hitmen who'd been lying to each other, it was. 

He wandered back into the house and felt another stab of pain. All their home videos were gone. The computer that had all the digital photos and videos was gone. Most of their photos from around the house were gone as well. The house looked like one staged to be sold and Simon had to take several deep breaths and sit to tamp down the sheer panic rearing up.

_He's leaving you just like everyone else does._

_Your parents didn't want you, Simon, so what made you think that a husband would?_

_You're a mess._

_No one wants to be with you._

The shaky feeling taking over his limbs and making the edges of his vision fuzzy felt stronger than they used to and Simon choked back tears at the realization that it was because he hadn't had an episode like this since meeting Baz. 

Beautiful Baz who had nearly struck him dumb in that hotel foyer several years ago. Who had taken his hand so confidently and played along so that the police would leave them be during the temporary martial law and transfer of power. Baz, who had danced with him in the rain, kissed him into another dimension, and eagerly made love to him.

Baz who had accepted his clumsy proposal with that happy little smile he never shared with anyone else. The same man that had lived with him in two condos and a suburban home, always keeping his lists at the ready for turning the living spaces into the sanctuary that Simon thought they both could feel safe in. The man that laughed with him during movie nights and made him cry when they would watch their wedding video. 

He'd felt so safe with Baz that he hadn't had one of his spells, and now years of hurt shot through him with a fiery vengeance. Had it all been a lie? It couldn't have been! So why didn't Baz trust him?! Why didn't he _try_ to talk it out?! 

Wasn't that why they had gone to the fucking therapy guy? To communicate?! Because Simon couldn't _use his words_?

He knew what the Mage would say. 

_"Simon,"_ he'd sigh in exasperation, _"how many times do I have to tell you to never let your guard down?!_ Never _trust anyone outside of this organization and even within this you should be careful! Everyone who can't be bothered to take care of themselves is expendable! Do you_ want _to be expendable?!"_

No, he didn't. 

Squeezing his arms around his knees even more tightly, Simon tried to breathe through the spell. He needed to get his shit together if he was going to successfully break into that skyscraper like he and Penny planned. All he needed to do was breathe and press all those feelings and memories down. Way down - where he didn't have to think about it anymore.

Or ever again.

*****

**_Sixteen years ago_ **

"Simon Salisbury!" the voice yelled out in annoyance. "Get over here!"

"Shit," he whispered as he shuffled along the tile as quickly as his socked feet could take him. 

He was supposed to have gotten dressed in his cleanest t-shirt and jeans, but the problem was that he didn't have any after his last set had been taken for washing and never returned. It was a hazard of living in these care homes, never seeing your "belongings" again. In this case, he'd been borrowing a white t-shirt and jeans from a kid at least two sizes bigger than him and now it had the bright blossom of blood all over the front of it, so he already knew that any chance he had with this potential foster parent was gone already. 

It didn't matter that Juan was the one who jumped him or that he had a bruise forming on his cheek. They were just going to see the blood on his fists, on his shirt, and note that he couldn't string two words together without stuttering. 

No one had wanted to take him once the incidents at school had started getting worse. The fights, detentions, fits of rage, and screaming. 

Ten-year-olds weren't supposed to flunk out of school. They weren't supposed to know more cuss words than vocab words. They weren't supposed to be sent to remedial school because they had no emotional regulation and got into fights on a daily basis. They weren't supposed to walk into a foster parent meeting with blood on their hands and clothes.

"Simon!" the lady gasped in horror when he rounded the corner. 

All of his hair had been shaved recently so he didn't have any curls to tug anxiously. Blue eyes took in the tall man that was seated at the bench on the opposite side of the room and Simon's first thought was, _"Wow, he has the coolest moustache ever."_

The lady was fussing over him and gushing apologies at the man while also trying to figure out who she needed to be giving medical attention to. Simon didn't do anything but stare at the man, and the strange man seemed almost amused at the whole scene. He wasn't shuffling away and making excuses about other appointments or anything.

"Miss Perez," he finally stated in a deep and smooth voice that made Simon immediately think of a superhero. Was he secretly a superhero? "Don't worry about Simon. You can just leave him in the room here with me and we'll just chat while you find the boy who lost the fight."

She looked a little confused and torn about leaving one of the kids alone with a stranger, but the still wet blood on the clothes made her more worried and with another slew of apologies she ran off to find the other kid. The mustached man leaned forward with a knowing smile and crooked his finger in invitation. Curious, Simon shuffled forward. Unbelievably large hands gingerly took hold of his still clenched fists and those fingers worked the hand open and examined the wounds.

"Not bad, Simon," he complimented. "But he got you in the face. That's a sloppy defense."

Simon shrugged even as he smiled a little.

Those hands were now examining his face and Simon wanted to melt into the touch. Care workers never took their time with him like this. There were too many children to take care of. 

"Do you fight with the bigger kids?"

Simon nodded slowly. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to admit it or not, but he'd never been much for lying unless it was to other kids so that he could keep his food hidden.

"Do you win?"

He shrugged again. Sometimes.

"Use your words, Simon."

"Uh, sometimes."

"Are you getting better at winning?" the man asked.

Another shrug. "Yeah. I, um, guess so."

"Would you like to win all of the time, Simon?" 

Blue eyes met brown and Simon couldn't help but feel a little excited. This man wasn't talking to him like anyone else ever had and he was offering to help Simon learn how to win. That sounded an awful lot like something that would happen in a superhero comic.

"Yeah!"

The man put out his hand for a handshake and Simon had never felt bigger in his life. 

"My name is Davy," the man said confidently. "And I'll teach you everything that I know."

"Okay!" Simon agreed.


	11. Part 10

The office was a flurry of activity as Baz diverted all their resources to digging up everything possible on Simon Snow. They needed to know who they were working against and it had everyone's nerves set on edge. Dev slapped Baz's hand for the sixth time and the younger cousin blushed to see that he had already chewed down all the nails on his left hand. 

Damn it, he'd just gotten a manicure a few days ago.

"I want everything we have on Snow," he barked out in agitation and there was a chorus of clacking keys. "Any other businesses registered to him, pseudonyms, timetables, everything! We need to find him, and soon!"

"Snow's not a common name, but...there's nothing really on your hus-" Elspeth caught herself and coughed over the word. "Uh, Mr. Snow is common enough that we're pulling up too much."

"Then narrow it down!" Baz snapped in agitation. "Is this our first mark, people?! Get your shit together and find me some useful information!"

He pointedly ignored the nervous glances toward him as he stalked behind his team of hackers. Rhys was biting his lip as he placed a range of fields to narrow down their search. At least a hundred Simon Snows fell off the main screen and the information rearranged itself. Everyone had already seen Simon's picture on their boss's desk for the past eight years, so they knew who to be looking for. 

The only things they seemed to be able to pull up was Simon's mediocre driving record and license, his and Baz's home address, the insurance on their vehicles, and medical records that Baz already knew. Perfectly normal things, and yet far less information than they should have been able to dig up in this amount of time. No social media accounts from when he was younger, no valid information on his parents or family, and even the information for the "construction" company passed through their first three waves of scrutiny before they ran into dead ends. 

"Who the hell is backing this guy?!" Marcus hissed as he tore through some more databases.

The phone was ringing and Dev answered it before he shot a panicked look at Baz. "Uh, good morning, Simon."

The office went completely silent except for the clacking of fingers against their keys. Baz dropped his tea cup clumsily on his desk before he snatched up his headset.

"Hello, _darling_ ," he snarled. "I can't say that I expected your call this morning."

"Of course not, love of my life," Simon shot back, overly sweet. "I would expect you to think that running me over with that fancy car of yours would put me down for a while."

Baz's fingers were snapping in annoyance as his team tried to triangulate the position of the caller.

"It looked like you're used to getting running over," Baz retorted with a huff. "Any other jilted lovers I should know about?"

"Jilted, huh?" Simon laughed tightly and Baz's lips twisted in thought. 

He was breathing a little heavily as if he was doing something strenuous. 

"Getting shot at by the person who promised to stand by me in sickness and in health tends to do that," he replied absentmindedly and a couple of the minions shot him surprised expressions. 

"I said it was a fucking accident, darling!" Simon chirped in annoyance. "You're the one who ran off instead of talking things out."

"Oh shit!" Marcus gasped just as the alarms began going off around the office. "He's in the air ducts!"

Baz gaped in surprise at the digital schematic that popped up and showed an estimated location just a floor below them. How had he managed to get that far without triggering anything?! 

"Evacuate!" he ordered sharply as he held a hand over the microphone of his headset. "Destroy evidence and let's get the fuck out!"

The tension in the room nearly exploded as all of the agents ran around to carry out their predetermined tasks for an emergency evacuation. Incinerators were flicked on, databases purged, and papers were destroyed while a few of the agents prepared the high-powered grappling hooks to launch so that they could escape to the neighboring skyscraper. It had been a while since they'd last had an evacuation drill, but Baz was proud to see that even with the shaking hands and anxious faces they were still doing their jobs.

"Are you going to run off again on me, love?" Simon jabbed. "You know what our therapist kept telling us - communication is key."

"Actions speak louder than words, Simon," Baz snapped back. "And you fucking shot at me!"

A slew of colorful curses blasted through the headset.

"I said I was sorry!" Simon snarled. "It. Was. An. Accident! What else do you want from me?!"

Windows shattered and the grappling hooks were launched while the agents lined up for their escape. 

"I want you to not be an imbecile running through our fucking neighborhood with a loaded weapon!" Baz hissed as he ran through the offices to double check that they weren't leaving anything valuable. 

He paused in front of his desk and felt his stomach clench painfully as he stared at their wedding photo, the same picture that had always been on his desk for the past six years. They were standing against each other with hands clasped and lips bared in the biggest smiles. It had been taken immediately after the ceremony and was one of Baz's favorite photos of them. Long fingers trained in classical music as well as the most efficient ways to kill people stroked over Simon's smiling face.

"I can do that," Simon huffed with a laugh. "Now can we talk?"

Baz chuckled as he stepped up towards the zip line. Dev was waiting for him at the other end, concern barely distinguishable on his face from this distance. 

"You should know me by now, darling," Baz retorted with a grin. 

A crash of ceiling tile and insulation came from the front end of the office and Baz looked over his shoulder to see Simon decked out in a black harness and op uniform complete with numerous bulging weapon holsters and a high tech set of goggles that was no doubt linked with his own office. Baz found himself almost blushing at just how good Simon looked in the outfit, less like the meek and soft construction foreman and more like a deadly asset. It suited him, strangely enough.

Baz tossed his headset off, the wind whipping his dark hair around his face and a smile refusing to leave his lips. This felt familiar, the two of them standing a room's distance apart and in a precarious situation. Simon had another pistol in his hand but he didn't even bother to lift it. 

"Don't make this hard, darling," Simon yelled to be heard over the wind. 

The only response Baz offered was to grab hold of the last launching device and toss a wink before he was sailing through the turbulent air between skyscrapers and landing precariously on the edge of the other building. Dev was there to make sure that he made it safely and he felt an unusual burst of affection for his cousin.

"You okay?" Dev asked softly and Baz looked back to see that Simon was leaning out of the shattered windows and looking a bit pissed off. 

"You bitch!" Simon shouted at him. 

Baz couldn't help but shout back.

"Cocksucker!"

Simon looked shocked and almost a bit offended which only made Baz chuckle and snort in an undignified manner before Dev grabbed his arm and dragged him away.

Huffing as he watched his husband make an escape, Simon leaned back in the building and sighed at the mess he was going to have to sort through.

"Damn right I'm a cocksucker," he mumbled to himself. "And pretty good at it too."

"Simon!" Penelope hissed through his headpiece. "Please. I don't want to hear about that!"

Making sure not to glance down and give Penny a view of the hard bulge in his trousers, Simon palmed over himself a few times before forcing his attention to the incinerators.


	12. Part 11

Simon was sweating through his t-shirt as he sifted through carbonized papers from the incinerators and the boxes of practically useless electronics he managed to get from Baz's office before the place went up in flames. Literal flames.

"I'm starting to think that my husband is a pyromaniac," he grumbled.

Penny was prying apart a laptop that had endured the flames of the incinerator. "You're probably right there."

They continued working in silence for a few minutes before Simon sighed and leaned back to stare at the ceiling.

"Have you heard anything from the Mage? He's not talking to me right now."

"It's protocol to cut communications with someone who might have been compromised," she reiterated before offering her own sigh. "And yeah, you're still on the original 48-hour timeline. After that he's sending in the Mage's Men."

"Bastards," Simon growled. "I've never needed their help before and I don't fucking need it now."

He swallowed thickly just imagining what they would do to Baz if they got their hands on him. 

"You've never made a mess up like this before, Simon," Penny muttered. "I think that it's just freaking us all out a little bit. Even Keris and Trixie have gone underground for the time being to avoid any blowback."

Simon felt shame crush down at him for having fucked up badly enough to send his support team underground. The Watford protocol was clear that this was his mess to clean up and all other agents were to avoid getting caught up with any potential compromised agent, but he was grateful that at least Penelope hadn't abandoned him. He hoped that she wouldn't get in any trouble for this. 

"It's...hell, Penny, this has all got to be some huge misunderstanding."

Brown eyes glanced over at the hunched man and Penelope felt a wave of pity for Simon. He'd been smitten with Baz from the moment they met under suspicious circumstances in Bogotá and even though they'd run into a bit of a rut lately and had some issues because of the talk of adding a baby to their family, none of that had ever swayed Simon's loyalty to him. He'd never once joked about cheating on Baz or wishing he had someone else as a partner - it had only been Baz. 

"Look, I understand that this is hard," she replied slowly, "and I don't want you to think that I'm being callous and persistent just because I haven't gotten on with Baz well in the past. But I really do think that you've gotten yourself involved in something so much bigger and worse than you know." Those blue eyes were looking at her with such hurt that Penelope wanted to just shut her mouth and get back to work. But this was important and Simon needed to be ready. "Something's come up on my radar and I...well, I haven't told the Mage yet because I didn't have all the proof but I've got pretty good intuition and I don't think that I'm wrong."

"What is it?" he practically whispered.

"The Pitch Bitch has disappeared, Simon," she sighed before pushing up her glasses and rubbing at her eyes. "I think...hell, Simon, I think that he's...I think that I know his real identity."

Simon was looking a bit more pale but he nodded.

"And?"

"Tyrannus Grimm-Pitch." There was silence between them as Simon leaned back from his work and stared blankly ahead. "I've pulled up everything we've currently got on the the Grimm and Pitch families and its a doozy, Simon."

"The Mage hates them," Simon stated flatly.

"Yes. The Mage has what's virtually a blood feud with them. It's part of the jobs he puts out that you never see. At least, you don't see the full picture. He's good about that - not giving anyone the full picture."

Simon turned to face Penelope and frowned. "Are you getting the full picture now, Pen?"

"I don't have all the information yet," she replied with a nervous quirk of her lips. "But, there's definitely something going on. I haven't gotten it all figured out, Simon, but the important part is that Baz is the number one hitman from those families and he's never failed to eliminate a mark. It's obvious that you're his mark."

"Do you think that he knows who I am?" he asked quietly. "And that I didn't know about him?"

She shrugged. "I don't know that it matters. He's going to try to take you out, and it looks like now he's bringing in the rest of the family. You're really going against the odds right now. Maybe we should have the Mage's Men step in now and help."

"No." 

Penelope blinked tiredly and stared at her best friend. They hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night as they prepped for breaking into Baz's office and they were already running short on time for the 48-hour window the Mage had given Simon. He looked just as tired as she felt, but he also had an expression on his face that she had never seen. The closest had been back when they had first met - Simon a badly adjusted teen who'd known nothing but training to be a killer and hiding his life away from others. 

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"Let's find out where Baz's backup office is and I'm going to confront him and see if he...I need to know if he's really out to get me."

She wanted to argue with him, to just shake Simon and make him see reason. Baz could not be trusted! He made a living off of luring in unsuspecting victims and eliminating them. His cover with Simon had been blown, and now that there was no more chance of getting information out of him it only made sense that Baz would move on to killing him. 

But Simon was not someone that always operated by logic. 

"If that's what you have to do, we'll do it," Penelope sighed. "I've got your back.

*****

"I don't believe it!" Elspeth gasped. "Mr. Snow! Mr. S-snow's here!"

Baz felt a flutter in his chest as he stopped typing on his tablet and glanced over. Sure enough, Simon was walking through the construction zone like he belonged there and was stepping into an elevator. It was a rather exposing thing to do, being so vulnerable in a box suspended in the air by fragile wires when there was a price on your head.

"Control that elevator," Baz demanded and there was the sound of compliance. 

Even though the team was small, they were all crammed together in a small space just outside of the construction zone. Their new office was still under construction so they weren't able to move in yet, but now Baz half wondered if they weren't going to need the new office at all after this mess was over. Maybe his father was going to call them all back home.

"We've got it, sir," Rhys announced after a few seconds. 

Baz watched as the elevator jolted to a stop. Simon leaned forward to press the buttons again as Baz lifted the headset to his mouth.

"This is security. There seems to be a problem with your elevator, sir." Pairs of eyes glanced at him nervously as he adjusted the headset over his black hair, but Baz didn't pay any attention to them. He couldn't when Simon was right there. "Do you want engineering to come up and see what the problem is?"

"Take your time," Simon responded easily. He was far too relaxed. "I'm pretty comfortable."

"Are you really comfortable?" Baz almost laughed.

He knew that the voice distorting tool was making him unrecognizable to Simon, but there was a knowing quirk to those lips.

"Baz?" Those blue eyes were glancing directly at the camera now, nothing but calmness on that beautifully freckled face. "How are you, darling?"

"First and last warning, Simon," Baz practically purred. "Get out of town."

Dev had a panicked expression on his face and Baz couldn't blame him. The job was to eliminate the threat within the 48 hours, not let Simon off the hook; but Baz knew that Simon wasn't going to just run off with his tail tucked between his legs. The fool was too stubborn for that. This was going to have to get resolved another way.

"You know that I'm not going anywhere," Simon shot back cockily, just like Baz knew he would.

"That's what you think," Baz laughed. "But right now you're trapped in a steel box hanging 70 floors over nothing but air." 

Simon laughed outright and it brought a bit of warmth under Baz's collar. He loved that laugh. "So this is a trap, darling?" Simon questioned, never losing his cockiness. "It's never going to work."

Baz raised an incredulous eyebrow. What kind of advantage did Simon think that he had at the moment? He was in a remotely controlled elevator for fuck's sake!

"Oh?" 

"Yeah. It's never going to work because you _constantly_ underestimate me."

"Do I?" Baz pressed, barely concealing the playful tone in his voice. 

It was strange to be feeling so energized by this situation with Simon. 

Simon was leaning forward towards the camera now, the wide angle lens showing off those exposed forearms quite nicely. "You don't know who I am, Baz, and you have no idea what I'm capable of."

And even though he logically knew that Simon couldn't see him back, Baz leaned forward towards the screen as well. "Right back at you, love," he sneered.

"Let me guess - shape charges on the counterbalance cable, and more on the primary and secondary brakes?" That shit-eating grin made Baz want to step on his throat. "Maybe?" Simon added mockingly.

"He found them!" Elspeth gasped.

Baz shot her an annoyed look. "Yes, thank you." She was interrupting his conversation with Simon, so he turned his attention back to that. "Did you also get the base charge at the principle cable?"

Simon blinked in surprise before glancing up at the ceiling of the elevator.

" _Gotcha_!" Baz thought in glee. 

He was leaning so closely to the screen now, the desaturated image not capable of accurately representing the color and life that Simon was so full of, and Baz couldn't help but wonder what Simon would throw back at him. Would he give in? Did he have another trick up his sleeve? 

"Promise to leave town or I'll blow it," Baz threatened, sweat prickling at the base of his neck. 

Simon stepped back and seemed to be considering his options. It wouldn't take him long to come to a decision - it never did.

"Okay," the brunette replied with a shrug before he leaned back and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I give up, Baz. Blow it."

An incredulous laugh burst from the taller man's lips and his eyebrows shot up his forehead. Was Simon Snow actually going to attempt to call his bluff? "W-what?"

"Go on, blow it," Simon challenged.

"Oh, you think I won't?" Baz shot back, far less annoyance in his voice then there should have been. What kind of idiot would say such a thing in that situation?!

Simon shrugged again. "Yeah...I think you won't."

"Okay, bastard," Baz chuckled. "Five...four..." He leaned back against the wall and gave the video image of Simon an unaffected expression. "...any last words, Simon?"

"Yeah, the new curtains are hideous," Simon snickered, his face completely incapable of hiding his amused and playful expression. 

"Goodbye, Simon," Baz toyed. 

Those flirty eyes were doing dangerous things to him and then suddenly the image went out. Baz's ears noted the sound of a click far too late and he practically lunged at the screen that was currently giving him nothing but static before he glanced over at the agents in a disbelieving panic. 

"What the hell was that?!" he gasped.

"What?" his idiot cousin Marcus muttered in shock. "You said 'goodbye'..."

Baz scrambled out of their temporary base of operations, a poorly disguised food truck that had been prepped by Niall months ago in case of emergencies, and was rewarded with the loud crash and explosion of dust and crunching metal. He coughed as he automatically drew closer to the scene of the accident, not wanting to believe what he was seeing. Had he really just sent his husband plummeting to the earth from 70 stories up?!

His vision was swimming and Baz stumbled closer to the chaos as construction workers were scrambling to figure out what the hell had happened before a hand grasped him by the elbow. 

"C'mon, Baz," Dev whispered.

There was a ringing in his ears and Baz shook his head in a daze. Had he...was Simon...

"Tyrannus," Dev hissed anxiously. "We need to get out of here! There's nothing to be done now!"

With barely contained hysteria, Baz swallowed thickly and used a shaky hand to brush some hair back from his face. "O-okay."

He allowed himself to be led away by the other man and in short order the team had been evacuated twice in less than 12 hours.

*****

The second elevator continued its ascent to the 85th floor, another unfinished level. The door pinged open and revealed Simon Snow sitting on the floor and staring off distantly with his fingers steepled and his pinched lips resting against them. He hadn't wanted to believe it, but what could he tell Penny now? This was the second time in 24 hours that Baz had attempted to kill him and he hadn't sounded the slightest bit remorseful. In fact, it sounded like he was having _fun_ with this.

And in a strange way it was kind of fun to play at this kind of fighting, to tease and test at each other, but...Simon couldn't imagine actually trying to hurt Baz. When his gun had gone off he'd been properly horrified. Baz didn't let off the accelerator at all.

Simon rolled up to his feet and jerked the device off the elevator's security camera that had allowed for the signal to be hacked via Penny. She saw the whole thing and had ensured that Simon was safe in the alternate elevator. He was grateful that she didn't feel it necessary to rub her I-told-you-so in his face right now and shoved his hands and the electronic device in his pocket before deciding to take a walk through the windy bones of the construction site.

Maybe he was going to have to rethink this whole thing with Baz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to re-work the next section a little, so it'll be a few days before the next update. But have no worries! The updates will be back before you know and back to updating every other day. <3


	13. Part 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience while I reworked some stuff on this chapter. I hope that you'll enjoy the story as it continues to unfold and I'll be back to the regular updates.
> 
> Niall enters the scene with Aunt Fiona in the background! What will Baz do now that he thinks Simon is dead?!

"Bloody hell," Niall sighed as he leaned against the wall. 

Dev shrugged knowingly. "Yeah. Where's Fi?"

He rolled his eyes. "She's probably breaking into the bloody Police District. To look into their files, of course."

"Still as paranoid as ever?" 

Niall chuckled softly. "Yeah. I don't imagine she'll ever not be. Not with the way her sister died."

They both stood quietly together in the hotel balcony, giving Baz some needed alone time and thinking about the occupational hazards of the job. 

Dev carefully reached out and ran his fingers along the paler ones of his friend. "What does Uncle want us to do with Baz?"

"I think he wants us all to come back home," Niall replied tiredly before pulling his hand away. They both knew that nothing could come of this. "Our information has Snow potentially tied with Watford and the Mage."

"Fucking shit," Dev sighed before stepping back and pulling out a cigarette. He'd picked up the habit after starting to work exclusively with Baz. "Want one?"

The brunette shook his head. He wasn't wearing those weird blue contacts tonight, and Dev noted just how bloodshot his eyes were.

"The Mage's Men are making some serious moves. We don't know what exactly he's up to yet but his activity seemed to pick up once Snow and Baz went after that Drummond guy."

"Hell," Dev sighed around the cigarette in his mouth. "Let's just...give Baz the night to grieve and then get him up-to-date in the morning. We'll be ready to leave by check-out time."

"I've already got the travel documents sorted for the team," Niall stated before he groaned softly with a large stretch. "Alright, I'm going to see if Baz wants to talk."

Fingers clenched around the railing and Dev did his best to pretend that he wasn't thinking about him and Niall making the most of their only night together before they were separated again for who knew how long.

*****

Slowly stepping up the velvet covered stairs felt like walking to the gallows. It was inevitable, the rush of fear and regret. Baz brushed back some hair that fell into his face, the locks treated with less product that he had grown up using and done in just the way that Simon liked. Loose waves framing his face and softly tickling at the nape of his neck. He was lucky to have hair that could hold a curl or remain sleek and straight with little effort. Simon's hair was a mess.

Rather, it _had_ been a mess.

A polite young man met Baz at the top of the stairs, leading him through the beautiful room with crystals and linens and silk to a table that looked out towards the wall of windows and a view of the gloriously lit nightscape. He nodded in gratitude and took his seat. This place was one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city and while it normally had a waitlist of several months, his fake credentials and Elite Level credit card was enough to get him a table tonight.

Baz stared at the window as a glass of wine was served and he barely had the mental wherewithal to nod at the questions the young man was asking. What did food matter at a time like this? Why was he even here, dressed in his best? 

Because this was where he and Simon promised forever for the first time.

Swallowing down the tart liquid, Baz allowed himself a moment to feel the full weight of the crushing grief. Simon had sat across from him that night six years ago. Had fumbled and stumbled, looking completely ill at ease in an establishment like this. It would be dishonest to say that he had expected a proposal, especially after only a few weeks of dating, but as he had looked down at the piece of jewelry that demanded an answer of loyalty and expectancy of life Baz found that he didn't need years to have an answer for Simon. 

No one else had ever made him feel such a way towards them, had consumed his thoughts and mind so completely. Baz was bewitched by Simon, and he found that rather than be offended, he was pleased by such a feeling. Pleased to see those flustered cheeks and those earnest eyes watching him with just as much intensity as he watched back. 

A tear rolled down his cheek and he allowed it to make an unmolested descent until it clung to the edge of his jaw. Simon Snow was worth more than a single tear. In fact, he was worth more than the countless tears Baz had already wept into his pillow today.

What good were those tears now?

He wiped the moisture off his cheek and delicately grasped his empty wine glass. Not a single cell of his body wanted to accept that this was the end for them, that the beautiful spark of Simon was gone forever. He wasn't stupid; Malcolm Grimm would be summoning him back home now, certain to have a lecture ready on the fact that he was always right and Baz should have known better than to go against his wishes.

It was possible that his father might even be angry enough to bring up Natasha, Baz's mother, and how if their careful behavior and precautions had not been enough to keep her alive why would Baz think that he could do better? In fact, he screwed up infinitesimally more by actually marrying the guy who was supposed to kill him and falling stupidly in love with him.

_"You don't love him,"_ he tried to remind himself, but it was futile. Why lie to himself? Simon was his everything.

It had been hard to connect with others after his mother's death. Playmates, peers, and even family seemed an arm's length away, a distance that he could never allow himself to close. From the moment they met in Bogotá, Simon had disregarded that unspoken rule and had dived right in. Their first night together in that hotel room they made passionate love. It had never been just casual fucking between the two of them, even when Baz tried to ignore how invested he was in those first few weeks. 

Simon kissed him like there was nothing else in the universe that was more important and it had always made Baz's head spin and his heart pound. 

But...it had all been a lie. It had to have been.

_"Mmm, darling," the soft voice whispered against his ear, fingers running down his naked side._

_"Yes?" he whispered back with a contented sigh._

_A kiss pressed to his shoulder...to his shoulder blade...open mouthed kisses along the ridges of his spine..._

_"I love you," came the response. "I love you...I love you..."_

Taking a deep breath, Baz shook his head. He was never going to be able to move forward if he kept dwelling on those memories. They had to be locked up, tighter than the memories that held his dear mother. Natasha Pitch died protecting him while Simon had died with the intention of killing him. That bastard didn't deserve the love and grief he was wretchedly mired in. But...had Simon actually done anything to hurt him? Beside the accidental gun shot? 

"Get it together, Basilton," he whispered into the already empty glass. 

This was it, it had to be. This was his final night of remembering and thinking of Simon. Things were too confusing otherwise and how could he live with himself? How could he live day after day with the terrible weight of his husband's blood on his hands? The husband who spoon fed him medicine and soup during that awful bout of stomach flu three years ago. Who had cooked meals for him without complaint for six years. Who held his hand as they walked down the street regardless of the looks shot their way. 

The husband who knew all of his ticklish spots and was not above using that information to his advantage.

It was the same man that was out to kill him.

Baz held out his glass to the waiter coming up from behind him and used his other hand to miserably wipe at another tear that was threatening to fall. A hand took his wrist gently to steady it as the red liquid was poured and Baz took a sharp inhalation before feeling his muscles relax more than they had in the past couple of days. Live tango music was being played on the stage and his body could feel an inviting thrum running through it. 

"Sir," the familiar voice purred and Baz couldn't keep the shaky smile off his lips. 

Every neuron in his brain was firing off in panic, relief, agony, anger, fear...and yet...He glanced up and offered the perfectly intact brunette a raised eyebrow in response.


	14. Part 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN!!!! The guys are finally having a conversation! What do you think will happen next?!

"I thought of a number of lines I could use for this moment," Simon stated softly, his voice barely heard over the music. "I kind of liked, 'Hey doll, thanks for giving me the shaft.'"

"That's a good one," Baz responded with too much relief before clearing this throat and straightening up again. He was incapable of pulling on his emotionless mask right now, but he was going to force some kind of decorum. "What did you decide on?"

Simon's smile was colder than it had ever been.

"I want a divorce."

Baz swallowed past the heavy knot settling in his throat as Simon moved towards the other end of the round table.

"I like it," Baz shot back airily even though the words felt like sand in his mouth. "You proposed to me here, so it has agreeable symmetry."

Simon pulled out the chair. "May I sit?"

"No," Baz snapped.

His husband completely disregarded the words and sat. Feeling some of that familiar testiness that seemed to plague him and Simon for the past few years, Baz leaned back and carefully settled his Beretta pistol on the lap of his impeccable crimson Brioni trousers while pulling a crisp linen napkin over it. Simon seemed to take him in completely, blue eyes traveling over the sharp lines of the entire Brioni three-piece suit and the powder blue button up under it. It was not the type of outfit that one would normally wear to grieve over the loss of the love of their life, but Baz had only worn black to one funeral before deciding at that ripe age of 5 to never do it again.

The brunette made a show of putting one of the cloth napkins on his lap and tapping on the metal barrel while the real waiter appeared and offered new drinks which both of them refused. Once the man stepped away, Baz spoke again.

"What do you want, Simon?"

"We've got an unusual problem, Baz. You obviously want me dead, and I'm growing less and less concerned about your wellbeing." They both stared at each other for a moment. "So what do we do? Should we shoot it out right here? Would that be even more symmetrical for you?"

"That would be an unfortunate way to end the evening," Baz sighed. "Because once I've killed you they'll want to escort me from the premises."

"Cocky much?" Simon laughed incredulously before glancing out towards the crowd.

His black Burberry suit was one that Baz had picked for him four years ago when they had been on vacation in Milan. It had been a good trip, and the suit was lovely. It was all black and had a matching button-up underneath. The clothing highlighted his husband's figure in the most flattering way, and his grey eyes drank in the sight greedily.

 _"Damn it, Basilton, get your head in the game!"_ the seasoned hitman chided himself. Sure, they were still playing some kind of game, but Simon definitely seemed different from how he had been during the interaction on the elevator. This playfulness had an edge to it that had all of Baz's senses on high alert.

Simon looked back at him with a look on his face that was hard to decipher. "Dance with me," he demanded, voice still soft but firm.

Baz actually snorted in surprise. "You don't dance," he stated flatly.

Not since Bogotá, and never in a formal setting.

"That was just a part of my cover, darling," Simon retorted as he stood from the table. His pistol had probably been tucked under the table already.

Unable to deny his husband's command during one of the strangest conversations he'd ever had in his life, Baz casually slipped his own pistol behind a nearby potted plant as he stood from the chair and then adjusted his suit. He was certain that Simon had seen the move, but the brunette said nothing. He just offered a hand which Baz took gingerly.

Simon tightened his grip and Baz found himself spun into a perfectly close embrace with Simon at the lead. Baz felt his heart pounding wildly as he stared down at his beautiful husband and potential killer. That mouth was begging to be covered by his own.

"Do you think that this is going to have a happy ending?" Simon asked quietly, the intensity never leaving his plain blue eyes.

Was he being honest? Did he really care what happened between them? All of Baz's training and thought patterns were screaming that no, it was impossible. Simon was just trying to get his guard down again.

"Happy endings are only for stories that haven't finished yet," he snapped in response.

Something a lot like anger darkened in those blue eyes and Simon pressed him backwards into the short steps of a Tango Argentino. It was oddly fitting that "Por Una Cabeza" by Carlos Gardel was being struck up by the band. The two men's matching Grimentin loafers tapped along the hardwood floor with practiced ease as they stayed in a close embrace through the backwards and forward motions, hands clasped tightly and chest against chest.

Baz had never followed in a Tango, but he found it oddly easy with Simon in the lead. He raised an eyebrow as Simon's non-dominant hand wandered up and down his back in a sensual stroke; it was too bad that he could recognize a pat-down, even during something like a Latin dance.

"Are you happy?" he provoked before his lips quirked down in annoyance.

Simon's dominant hand had slid down his wrist and located his hidden knife and the blade was disposed of with a flick of a practiced wrist. It sunk into the mahogany of a pillar at the edge of the dance floor with no one the wiser and Baz wondered what it would be like for the cleaning crew to stumble across that later in the evening.

"Not at the moment, no," Simon responded back with a jut of that powerful chin.

The taller man stepped back for a brief execution of steps before being brought back in with perfect control and tempo, a side of Simon that he had never seen. His own hands trailed along the beltline of his leading husband and a few quick moves upward had Baz discovering a loaded gun holster and removing the threat. Simon didn't try to stop him as he dumped the gun in a passing waiter's ice bucket, so Baz assumed it wasn't his favorite gun or anything.

They continued their dance with a few well-timed kicks and dips, before Baz made himself look into those eyes and ask a question that was close to what he really wanted to know.

"Why do you think we failed in our marriage?" he asked with what he hoped was an airy tone. Two days ago he would have laughed at the notion that his marriage was a failure. "Because we were leading separate lives? Or was it all the lying?"

The arms holding him close tensed.

"I think you killed us," Simon responded flatly, and Baz choked on his spit in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

Simon's cutting words continued unbothered. "I've realized that you were approaching our marriage like a job, something to be reconned, planned, and executed. We had to have the perfect house, perfect lives, perfect social calendars, and even wanting a baby was just a part of that, wasn't it?"

Baz's jaw tightened as he tried to endure the pain of those words cutting into him. "And you did your best to disassociate with the whole thing," he shot back cruelly, remembering all those times that Simon would look uncomfortable with the idea of the baby or when he would refuse to give Baz any feedback when it came to things like their house, the décor, and even the damned family doctor. "No wonder you slow-rolled the process of having a baby."

They paused in the middle of the dance floor, eyes burning with anger and hurt.

"Why bother with such a complicated thing like a baby if our marriage was just a cover?" Simon asked stiffly.

"Who said it was a cover?" Baz blurted out heatedly.

They were still for another breath before they were spinning in controlled steps again, Simon carefully studying Baz's face and Baz trying his best to remain unreadable. He shouldn't have said that; it was too revealing, and yet...how could he not respond? That baby was supposed to be the next step for them, another way to show their love and dedication. He would have never used such an intimate thing in a job regardless of how long term or important it was!

"Wasn't it?" Simon asked, his tone belying a bit of uncertainty. "Our marriage? Us?"

"Wasn't I a cover for you?" Baz asked back miserably.

Those blue eyes softened and Baz felt his stomach flip before he tamped down on it. No, he wasn't going to do this right now, damn it. Those fingers had trailed down and were softly tracing over his bloody nail beds, while the other hand was stroking softly at his ribs - it was all distracting. He needed to get away from here and away from this earnest expression.

"Baz-"

"I can't-" he hissed taking a step away and breaking their dance. "I just...I..."

Snapping his mouth shut, he turned on his heel and marched up towards the stairs that lead to another level of the restaurant and the restrooms.

"There are no exits up there!" Simon called out almost cautiously, as if it was both a threat and a warning.

He didn't need exits, just a diversion.

Turning the corner Baz had to pause and take a few deep breaths as the memory of Simon proposing to him flared up. For as confident as the shorter man had always been, that night he had seemed a bundle of nerves and stumbled over asking the question several times before Baz had finally asked him point blank.

_"Are you asking me to marry you?" he'd asked in exasperation._

_Simon looked relieved and nodded. "Yeah, darling. Do you want to marry me?"_

_He struggled for a few seconds to pull the velvet box out of his pocket and snapped open its top to reveal a smooth thin band._

_"I...yes."_

_They both stared at each other with wide eyes before Simon was beaming and Baz was laughing incredulously at himself. Simon jumped up to put the band around his fiancé's hand and promptly knocked the glass of wine all over Baz's outfit._

_"Oh, shit!"_

Baz clutched his hand and stroked the engagement and wedding bands still secure on his finger. He had allowed himself just tonight to grieve over them before he would turn them over to his father, and now here Simon was trying to mess with his head even more. Simon was dangerous! He was so fucking disarming with that innocent face and those earnest expressions!

Staring up with determination, Baz pulled out his makeup compact. It had a built-in detonator, one of his many back ups and he activated it before tossing the thing down the hall. It immediately started smoking, an attempt to alert and frighten off innocent bystanders while he stepped towards an oncoming party of people that he could use for cover.

It only took a few seconds for people to notice and start panicking and then the detonator was going off loudly and with a huge plume of smoke. The damage was minimal, but its impact was large enough to frighten everyone in the restaurant, and there was the predictable stampede towards the exit.

Simon growled in annoyance at the explosion. Of course Baz would have an exit plan! He started going up those stairs before the stampede came down and he had to step aside to avoid being trampled. A flash of red caught his eye and he watched as Baz glanced over his shoulder with a determined look on his face before disappearing once more into the crowd.

He wasn't going to get away that easily!

Running down all those fucking stairs was ridiculous, but Simon was quite proud of how fit he kept himself and he was barely out of breath when he reached the bottom floor. A quick examination of the crowd gathered at the base of the building revealed that Baz was nowhere in sight, so he raced over to the valet to claim his car. Minutes later he was tearing down the highway and dialing up his husband's car phone.

Stupid fancy jaguar.

"Be cool, Simon," he pep-talked to himself as the phone rang. "Be super cold..."

The call was accepted with a cordial, "Baz Snow here."

"You are a bastard and a coward," Simon started off as he jerked his suit jacket off while driving.

"That's very observant of you, love."

That man knew exactly how to drive Simon crazy and he was doing a very good job of it. "I am going home right now, and I'm going to burn all of our photos," he threatened angrily.

"I'll race you there," Baz shot back with a snarl before hanging up.

The two men fumed silently for several minutes before Simon was calling Baz again.

"Are you there yet?" Baz asked sharply as he jerked around another vehicle trying to slow him down.

Simon's voice seemed suspiciously quiet over the speakers before he finally spoke up. "The first time we met...what was your first thought?"

The question startled Baz and he blinked a couple of times before throwing the question back at Simon. "What was your first thought?"

There was silence for a few seconds and Baz found himself holding his breath.

"I thought...I thought that you looked like Christmas morning." Baz swallowed thickly again as he heard Simon's words, feeling that damnable lump making its appearance once more tonight. "I don't know how else to describe it, Baz."

"And why are you telling me this now?" he gritted out, hating how much his emotions were swirling inside.

"I guess...I guess that in the end you start thinking about the beginning," Simon responded just as softly. "So there it is, Baz. I thought you should know." Baz's breath was picking up and he felt tears pricking at his eyes. "So how about it, darling? What was your first thought?"

"I thought..." Baz felt his voice break and he cleared it before hitting his head back against the headrest and steeling himself. "I thought that you were the most beautiful mark I'd ever seen."

He could hear the shaky and disbelieving exhale from over the speakers and immediately regretted his words, but couldn't take them back.

"So it was all business?"

"All business," Baz confirmed tightly.

After a few seconds Simon responded again, just as softly but with a bit more resolve. "Thank you, Baz. That's what I needed to know." Simon seemed to wait on the line for his husband to say something, but words seemed to escape Baz. "Okay," the brunette added in finality.

"Okay," Baz retorted firmly before hanging up the phone again.

Regret washed through his whole body and he slammed back against the seat in frustration. Why was he letting Simon get to him like this?! Why couldn't he seem to turn his feelings off anymore?!

It didn't matter. They were both headed home and this mess was going to be settled tonight.


	15. Part 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **NOTE: there is explicit smut in this chapter! I believe that it's pretty clear where it's going to take place as you read it, so you can skip over, but if you are uncomfortable with reading the chapter at all, I have the key plot points of the chapter in the end notes.

Dev leaned against the door frame of the hotel suite's bathroom and watched as Niall brushed his teeth and washed his face in preparation for sleep. Those brown eyes were determined to avoid Dev's, but that didn't stop the young Grimm from staring. He couldn't help it when he fell into his spirals of fixation, and right now that extreme focus was all wrapped up in the ways he wanted to be taken apart by Niall. It was one of the reasons that Uncle Malcolm had kept them separated for years; after the mess with Baz getting married, he didn't want even more family drama or distractions. 

"Why are you making this difficult?" Niall sighed as he dropped the washcloth he'd been using to dry his face. "I've already disobeyed Mr. Grimm by coming here at your behest with Auntie. Isn't that enough? To be here for Baz?"

"I'm a difficult person," Dev replied with a shrug. "You should know that by now."

Those eyes were now shooting a glare at him. "Dev. It's not going to happen."

A pink tongue absentmindedly peeked out to toy with the loop piercing through his lip, and Dev enjoyed the tension in the other man's face as he made it a point to _not_ glance down at that mouth. Fuck, didn't Niall know all the ways that he contributed to Dev's mental degradation into a lust-fueled monster? How every time he pushed away it only made Dev want more?

"What's not going to happen?" he asked playfully. 

"Do you have any concept of prudence? Or appropriateness? We're here for _Baz_! Not for each other! Not for a quick fuck!" He was barely taking a breath in his rant and it only worked the depraved man up even further. "I'm here for _work_! And Baz! He needs us to be on our A-game!"

"Baz is off bemoaning the death of his husband, Niall," he replied calmly. "You know what that makes me think of?"

"That Mr. Grimm is absolutely right and we shouldn't bother with dangerous things like relationships?" Niall growled angrily.

"That shit happens and we're always going to have regrets." Niall's eyes widened a little. "And come on, what would you rather regret? Getting off? Or playing a fucking martyr?"

"Nothing's going to come of this," came the quiet response. 

"So what?"

They stared at each other for a few moments - Dev picking absentmindedly at the frayed cuts on the thighs of his skinny jeans and Niall looking like he was having an internal executive meeting. 

Grimms were taught at a young age that patience was important and that self-control was king. You couldn't have a family legacy of top-tier assassins otherwise, and Dev's parents had done their best to instill that in their only child. 

Unfortunately, Dev didn't give a shit about rules or wisdom or even the idea of building a legacy. His brain raced too fast to think about the future for too long, and there were very few people that he could be bothered to care about for any extended period of time. One of them was his cousin, another was a woman he considered an aunt, and the other was this infuriating bloke who always wanted to play at being so obedient and meek.

Fuck that.

Brushing back the raven fringe of hair over his undercut, Dev dropped to his knees right there in the doorway and raised an eyebrow as he splayed out his hands in invitation. It was a gamble with whether Niall would accept or not, but he wouldn't back down now. 

There was a sigh of resignation and then a command issued in the same tone of voice that Dev still dreamed about. "Take your fucking jeans off."

*****

Dev knew that he should have been at least trying to think about Baz and the sobbing that the man was probably going through, but it was rather hard to do that when he was being fucked within an inch of his life by the guy he knew would be gone again in only a couple of days. 

His oversensitive body was screaming with nerves absolutely wrecked by that calm and brutal fucker, and his shoulders ached as Niall pulled his elbows even further back. That cock was thrusting mercilessly into his arse while his thighs trembled in their attempt to keep the angle he was set at and Dev let out a strangled scream of delirious pleasure. Niall's knees nudged at his again, forcing his kneeling stance wider and Dev thought that he might actually start crying. 

Hell, he hadn't cried since the last time Niall did this to him. 

Turning his face into the suffocating mass of the mattress, Dev bit down on the sheets to keep from shrieking out again, but Niall only jerked more sternly on his elbows as he thrusted forward with that punishing pace and Dev knew that he was hitting his breaking point. Lips mouthed against the bed words that he could never make himself actually say to Niall and his hands clenched with tension while his shoulders cramped. 

"You're going to take it," Niall hissed almost angrily. "Can't just leave things the fuck alone, can you, Dev?"

"N-no," he whispered hoarsely.

Their skin slapping was louder than any of their words.

"We both know that it's only a matter of time," Niall continued. "R-right?" His nails dug into the darker skin, scraping grooves into it. "You're going to get yourself _killed_ and I won't sit around and cry for you. I won't Dev."

" _I love you_ ," Dev mouthed silently against the sheets.

"I'm not going to be like B-baz." 

" _I want you_ ," came another silent confession that Niall would never hear.

"I'm not going to fucking sit around and wait for you to get knocked off, Dev! I'm not going t-to cry my eyes out!"

Dev wanted to make empty promises about never getting killed or of being willing to quit the business but Niall was his closest friend outside of Baz and they weren't in the habit of lying to each other. Not even for comfort.

And Niall was right. Uncle Malcolm was right. Only pain could come from following these feelings. Baz tried to fight against those odds, one of his only rebellions against the system and the family life, and look at how that turned out. Tears burned in Dev's eyes as he recalled the horrified look on Baz's face when the elevator crashed down, and the utter betrayal on his face when he called Dev to the office the previous night and explain that yes, his husband was actually a hitman. He couldn't ask Niall to go through anything like that even if he wanted to argue that it would be completely different.

They had all grown up together. Niall and Baz were the first ones to know that Dev had decided to follow along the family business. Niall had been the one anxiously tending him the first time he was hospitalized. 

_"We know each other,"_ he wanted to argue. There were no secret loyalties or contradicting directives. 

But it was true that he was likely to be the first to go. Niall had earned a reputation for his top-notch hacking skills and was always employed close to the family compound where he would be safe. Dev couldn't stand being in the compound for more than a week, always feeling stifled and antsy. He needed the thrill of risk and the rush of contracts to keep his hyperactive brain happy. Working directly under Baz had proven to be a blessing, being able to manage all kinds of moving parts without always being the one on the front lines. 

Yeah, he was definitely going to get killed sooner rather than later. 

"Damn you," Niall hissed as his hips began to stutter in their rhythm.

It was the same thing Niall had told him post-coital the first time they fucked, arms still wrapped around each other and chests heaving. That's when Dev knew that Niall wasn't going to try for him. That he was going to grin while walking over the broken glass of wanting with a smile firmly planted on his lips because there was no amount of love between them that would make Niall risk it for him. 

But he'd beg for what he could get anyway.

"Niall," he moaned loudly as he recalled that first time, the only time they had ever done it face-to-face, and the mind-numbing whiteness of climax crashed through him again, his whole body shaking.

A muffled groan was the only response as Niall buried himself balls deep and trembled in his own release. 

Hands released Dev's elbows and he felt himself collapse onto the mattress bonelessly, hissing at the inelegant uncoupling. "Fucking ouch."

Niall snorted before collapsing next to him, staring up at the ceiling. "We should call Baz," he panted.

"I don't want to talk about Baz," Dev snapped in annoyance even though he knew that he was being insensitive. He rolled over on top of Niall and moved down to press their lips together just as the barely audible sound of the patio doors clicking open registered.

Silver eyes stared down at the two sets of pistols pointed at her, and Fiona tossed back her hair in annoyance. 

"Sorry ta interrupt, boyos, but think ya can tuck yer dicks away so we can talk about the fact that Simon Snow is not dead?"

"He...what?!" Dev gasped, his finger still firm against the trigger. Niall was already lowering his weapon but he looked shaken.

"And that's not all," she sneered, strutting up to them and tossing a flashdrive on the edge of the bed. "His code name is 'the Dragon.'" The two men's faces paled considerably and her rouge lips sneered. "Now, where the fuck is Baz?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dev and Niall have a conversation about why they aren't together (as in, dating) and Dev convinces Niall to at least have a romp in the sheets with him while Baz is off crying at the restaurant. Dev has deeper feelings for Niall than he lets on because he knows that Niall won't risk his heart when it's likely that Dev will get killed in his line of work.
> 
> Just as they finish up, Fiona breaks into the room through the patio door and reveals that Simon Snow is not dead and he's the hitman known "the Dragon." This shocks both men and makes them very afraid.


	16. Part 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I'm a mess and so very sorry that this chapter hadn't been posted sooner. Illness, family issues, and then Snowmaggedon have contributed to this delay, but I hope that it was worth the wait. Thank you for your patience, lovelies, and please enjoy Simon and Baz's confrontation. 
> 
> This chapter marks the beginning of the second arc of the story.

The house was dark when Simon arrived barely 30 minutes after the disaster at the restaurant. Knowing that Baz was inside and waiting to kill him, he took great care to keep silent as he ran around the house looking for the best entry point. He obviously had a key on him, but the doors seemed like the most obvious choices for Baz to cover. Simon was a pretty decent gambler, and that seemed like an unnecessary risk especially when there were so many windows to choose from.

Using his elbow to break one of the panes of the first floor office, Simon paused to see if Baz would come in with guns blazing. Silence encouraged him to reach in and unlock the window before climbing in as quietly as he could. Landing into a crouch, Simon took the time to listen for any movements. Why did they have to buy such a big fucking house? 

_Because we weren't planning on having a fucking shoot-out in here..._

Calming his breaths down, Simon pulled the pistol from his holster and kept it in the ready position as he crept forward. There were extra magazines tucked into his snug trouser pockets and the silencer had been screwed on when he had still been in the car, so he was as ready as he could be. Blue eyes darted around carefully as he moved from the office and towards the main hall. Baz hadn't shot at him already, so he was pretty certain that his husband had taken a central position along the stairwell. 

That vantage point would allow that dark-haired bastard to avoid being sneaked up on and gave him plenty of options for shooting. Smart fucker.

 _"If he was so smart, why hasn't he actually killed you yet?"_ Simon thought to himself before almost laughing. It wasn't for a lack of trying recently. 

Crouching down by the hallway wall that kept him hidden from the stairwell, Simon grabbed a nearby picture frame to use as a mirror for around the corner. It had their smiling faces from their honeymoon in Paris, but he wasn't going to let himself get distracted. The picture barely peeked around the corner before a shot rang out and Simon cursed while he dived for the floor. 

Baz was using a fucking shot gun!

Just as quickly as the assault started, the shots ended. "Are you still alive, love?" Baz asked mockingly.

Simon groaned as if he had taken a hit and allowed his pistol to drop to the floor before he immediately swiped it up and shot a few rounds through the fresh holes in the wall. Baz rolled down the stairs beautifully to avoid getting hit and Simon cursed under his breath as he noted the automatic rifle hanging on his husband's shoulder in addition to the extra ammunition. He carelessly dropped the empty magazine on his pistol and moved towards the kitchen while he reloaded. 

The wall behind him continued to explode with new holes as Baz was risking blind shots, but he tried to remain focused on the objective. With a quick bracing breath, Simon rounded the corner and choked on his breath when he saw that Baz wasn't on the stairs anymore. Where the fuck had he gone off to?! Those ridiculous shoes should have been loud enough for him to hear! Creeping along the floor cautiously because he had the same damn shoes, Simon felt the sweat already soaking through the back of his shirt. 

Tyrannus Grimm-Pitch had a brutal record - zero failed attempts (not including the one on Humbert Drummond he interrupted), 665 confirmed kills, and zero captures. Watford had never managed to get a hold of him regardless of how much the Mage hated the Grimm-Pitch family. Even the Pitch Bitch had been captured briefly a couple of times and she had the best record just above her nephew. 

Simon knew that he had been trained up to compete with the Grimms and Pitches but he hadn't ever had to face off with any of them yet. The Mage had been telling him it would come soon, but now this whole mess had blown up. A tremor in his hands started and he swallowed thickly. He couldn't mess up now; not when the Mage had been working so hard all these years to prepare him and put him in the perfect position to take down the whole damn family. 

Fuck it all, he'd probably already single-handedly destroyed all of Davy Mage's careful plans. If he didn't bring Baz's head on a platter he was fucked.

His elbow knocked over one of those ridiculous teapots that Baz collected and he silently gasped as he juggled the fragile china until his hand caught it firmly. Damn things! The elegant scroll of flowers on the tea pot seemed to grin mockingly at him before the lid fell off and crashed to the floor loudly enough to summon a bloody army. 

Everything around him seemed to explode and Simon dodged and tripped and stumbled towards the kitchen with every curse word in his arsenal being uttered. Broken china was flying everywhere and a large piece sliced across his cheek and nicked his exposed hands and forearms. The shotgun had been abandoned and now Baz was unleashing the clips from his automatic rifle. Simon took shelter behind one of their posh vases the size of a middle schooler and unleashed his own clip in the direction of his husband. 

Baz took a dive and elegantly rolled across the floor before bringing that weapon up and shooting in Simon's direction without hesitation. Not a hair out of place, that fucker. 

The kitchen was his next best option for shelter, so Simon sprinted across the hall to take cover there. How many fucking clips of ammo did Baz have on his ammunition belt?! Being on his last clip, Simon fired back half of it to give himself enough cover to pull open the fridge door as a shield, and he hissed as the echo of bullets spraying behind him assaulted his eardrums. He smiled in amusement at the now deformed metallic door and made a mental note to tell Penny about the sturdiness of that brand since she was in the market for a new fridge herself. 

Turning on his heel, he fired around Baz to keep the tall man hiding behind the wall while his other hand worked to unscrew the gas line. Thank fuck that Baz hadn't wanted an open floor plan or this fight might have gone a bit differently. Taking cover behind the line of fire, he waited for the oncoming explosion. The bullets came and then the sweet sound of combustion.

"Shit!" Baz yelped as he was blown back and Simon snapped shut the emergency valve on the gas line before he leapt out to take advantage of Baz's scrambling. 

The pistol was empty and useless so Simon went into a flurry of punches and kicks, kneeing Baz right in the gut and sending him scrambling back and losing his grip on the rifle. That beautiful bastard snarled angrily and Simon couldn't help the flutter in his stomach and the rush of endorphins. Baz looked like he was ready to kill and it was a good look on him. 

Those hands whipped out with practiced ease and soon the two were in a full on brawl. Simon quickly saw that he wasn't going to be able to hold anything back, so he gave as good as he got. One of his kicks sent Baz crashing back into a bookshelf and the man groaned in pain as he struggled to get back up. Simon couldn't help himself and waggled his eyebrows in invitation.

"Come to daddy," he laughed.

Baz snatched a nearby vase and smashed it against Simon's head before delivering a punishing roundhouse that had Simon flat on his ass.

"Who's your daddy now?" Baz shot back, a hint of a smile breaking through the murderous expression on his face.

Shaking his head and clutching at his probably bruised face, Simon admired the view from his position on the floor with Baz towering over him. That red suit was already looking a bit rough but it was still so fucking beautiful on his husband. Those clenched fists ready for more were split and covered in blood, his heaving chest exposed by the torn buttons of his pale blue dress shirt, and his face...

Damn. 

There wasn't a more beautiful face in the world.

Simon wasn't stupid. He had done his best to remain impassive, to steel himself to killing this man but when Baz just stood there looking at him like that it...it was almost like Baz didn't really want to kill him either.

And then Baz was moving again, and Simon was diving out of the way from an oncoming potted plant and tackling Baz to the ground where they grappled. Elbows were thrown and curses were gasped. Knees were probably going to be bruised, and probably several ribs. Baz managed to wriggle him into a headlock and he had to break it with a few well-placed punches to the nerve that ran on the outside of that shapely leg. 

He backhanded that sharp jaw and Baz kicked him in the gut with enough force to send him back a couple of feet. Gasping in pain and for breath, Simon caught sight of the rifle. Baz's eyes widened in realization and he dived over the broken couch towards the fireplace just as Simon ran towards the rifle. When he whipped up with the weapon aimed and securely tucked against his shoulder, Simon saw those grey eyes staring down the sight of a pistol at him. 

Barrel to barrel, the two men stared each other down. 

Taking deep gulps of breath, Simon tried to make himself pull that trigger. All of his training said to do it. The imaginary Mage always whispering in his ear said to. Imaginary Penny screamed a hearty, " _Simon, kill that bastard_!!!" But that broken and bleeding face belonged to his husband.

His _husband_.

Five or six years ago he promised to take care of Baz. He swore to do his best to care and keep him and he meant every word. If it had all been a lie, then he deserved to take the bullet, but even now in a face off he couldn't help but think that it hadn't been. Baz hadn't shot yet and his lips were drawn tight in a line. Those eyes were wide and almost scared, not ready to take down a mark.

"I can't," he whispered and those grey eyes widened even more. Simon dropped the rifle to his side and said it again, this time with more conviction. "I can't, Baz. If you want to, that's fine. I'm right here."

"Don't!" Baz hissed as he shook the pistol threateningly. "Come on!"

Simon dropped the weapon completely and left his hands visible so that there was no misunderstanding of this being a trick.

"I won't, darling."

Tears were welling in those eyes now and Simon felt a rush of emotion, the desperate need to comfort Baz, but he kept still. If Baz needed to take the shot, he wasn't going to do anything to stop it.

"Come on!" Baz demanded, his voice breaking and his lower lip trembling.

The shaking pistol dropped an inch and it was enough for Simon. He lunged forward and brushed the gun aside and their lips were crashing together. 


	17. Part 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright people...here is some smut for you. XD 
> 
> If that's not your cup of tea, check out the end notes for the info you'll need to make sense of the story.

Baz's mind went blissfully blank as he wrapped his arms around Simon and tugged him even closer, their lips moving desperately against each other's. Hands were cupping his face warmly, as if he was something precious and Baz moaned softly. 

Simon.

His _husband_.

The temperature in the room seemed to take a leap upwards and his hands dragged down to grasp hungrily at that perk arse. Simon pushed forward forcefully and Baz stumbled back and crashed into a wall, some kind of art falling to the ground and its glass shattering. Those blessed hands were roaming down hungrily, tugging at his suit jacket and ripping off the few remaining buttons of his shirt. 

Their hips ground against each other and Baz moaned again before helping Simon get that jacket off so that he could focus more on pushing those trousers down. Simon growled into his mouth and the taller man felt his brain nearly short-circuit. Strong arms wrapped around his thighs and hauled him up while he crossed his ankles behind Simon's back to help keep himself up and they were crashing down the hall drunkenly. They stumbled against the wall that had those damnable tea pots and a hasty swipe with a fucking beautiful forearm had the hall table cleared off so that Simon could pin him more comfortably atop it. 

Not needing to hold himself up anymore, Baz attacked Simon's belt with renewed vigor. Material was tearing somewhere and then Baz was having a naked leg shoved up to his shoulder and their hot cocks pressed against each other. Pain bloomed at the back of his head as he threw it back into the wall, but he was beyond caring. Simon's trousers were barely keeping up at his thighs while he thrusted against Baz and he was grunting from the exertion and probably the pain of bruised ribs. 

Baz spat on one of his hands and shoved it between their bodies to wrap around their cocks and the both of them trembled with the force of their moans. Grey eyes caught sight of blue for a short moment before Simon was shoving them further against the wall and kissing him with fierce determination. The hand that wasn't busy pumping them towards a quick release was clutching those wavy strands desperately. 

"A-ahh!" he choked out against Simon's lips, shoulders coming up and brows furrowing with the force of his orgasm. 

Simon's hand wrapped around his and continued to pump them together until his hot seed spilled out over their fists and he was slumping breathlessly against Baz's chest. After a few seconds Simon lifted Baz off the table and slid them carefully to the floor, Baz's shirt under his bare arse and their dicks still out. They both giggled a little before Simon jerked his shirt over his head and used it to wipe them clean. 

Once he was finished with the shirt, he tossed it in the direction of Baz's trousers and settled chest to chest with his husband once more. Still unsure of what the hell was going to happen in the near future, Baz lifted his fingers and gently ran them over his husband's face, giving attention to all of the features and being careful with all the damage inflicted tonight. 

Blood was drying from the gashes along his soft cheek and there was a bruise blooming along the jawbone from where his elbow had connected less than fifteen minutes ago. As familiar as this face was, Baz couldn't help but also think how foreign it was. He hadn't known this side of his husband when he made those vows six years ago. This Simon, who could throw down like an absolute beast, whose tender hands could easily snap a neck, and kind eyes had been trained to stare down a scope and gauge a kill shot. 

Simon fought like someone who had real life-and-death experience, and Baz had been unsure of which of them would come out on top. This Simon Snow was bloody frightening and yet...he had been the first to throw his weapon down. These blue eyes staring at him in adoration held no lies. That soft smile was just for him and the hands that were currently stroking along the bare skin of his legs still made him feel safe. 

"Hello, stranger," Baz whispered, running a finger carefully over that plush lower lip. 

"Hello," Simon greeted back with a sweet grin before he offered Baz a peck. 

No sooner had they pulled away to better stare at each other than the doorbell rang. 

"Bloody hell," Baz groaned.

Simon just snickered before pressing another quick kiss to Baz's lips. Then he was pushing himself upright and tucking himself away as he strode to the door without a shirt. Baz chuckled fondly before rolling over and hunting for his underwear. His shirt was a lost cause without its buttons, but at least he wouldn't be bare-arsed for the police force that was probably knocking. 

"Hello?" he heard Simon ask politely. 

The dark-haired man chuckled again as he sifted through the debris and found his abandoned pistol, something that had been knocked off his person after the explosion in the kitchen. Tucking it under his waistband at his lower back as an extra precaution, he moved to join his husband at the front door. 

"O-oh!" Chad exclaimed in embarrassment as Baz pulled the door open wide enough to expose his mostly naked body.

"Yeah, we're good here," he uttered confidently. 

Karen looked like she was about to have an aneurysm. "O-oh my!" she squeaked.

Both police officers standing behind the neighbors were looking embarrassed. 

"Er, have a good evening," one stammered.

"Still remodeling?" Chad added weakly. 

Did he want to fucking extend the conversation? 

"Good night," Simon stated pleasantly before slamming the door in their faces. 

The two of them watched from the window as their neighbors hastily retreated to their own home and the officers to their cars. Once the audience was gone, Baz and Simon were laughing again and Baz pressed his husband against the door to smother him with a new round of kisses. How could he have thought for one moment that Simon actually wanted to hurt him? Why did he have to keep pushing this man away and refusing to listen?

"Shower," he whispered against those lips, "and then the bed. _Our_ bed."

"Our bed," Simon reiterated eagerly, his hands teasing at the waistband and patting at the pistol approvingly.

*****

Penny blanched as her eyes raced over the words on the file in front of her and the buzz of her phone had her jumping straight off of her chair. 

"Shit," she whispered as she flipped it over to reveal the message.

$400,000 reward, Tyrannus Grimm-Pitch

"Oh wonderful," she grumbled before choking on her spit at the next name to pop up.

$400,000 reward, the Dragon - Watford

A quick glance to the clock revealed that the 48 hour grace period was over. Simon hadn't killed Baz! But...apparently Baz hadn't killed Simon either.

What was the Mage going to do? Protocol meant that he would send out the Mage's Men to take care of the compromised asset as well as the mark that was supposed to be eliminated, but this was Simon! This was his Heir, the one that had been trained and raised to take over Watford when the Mage retired! And if what she found was true, then Simon was a lot more than that!

Another buzz vibrated her phone just as an alert pinged on her laptop. 

"Fuck!" she squealed when she looked down and she immediately dropped the device and turned to laptop to initiate the self-destruct protocol. 

$400,000 reward, Penelope Bunce - Watford

Someone was tearing through her firewalls but she wasn't going to let them win. The device began digitally purging while she bustled around and ran heavy duty magnets over the remaining devices. That accomplished, she jerked out all of the harddrives and began smashing them all with a hammer. Even as the minutes were ticking away, she risked pouring gasoline over the smashed remains and dropped a lit match on them. The whole thing went up in a pungent flame and Penny grabbed her bug-out bag before clicking the self-destruct protocol for her apartment. The building's fire alarms went off and there would be a ten minute lag time before her place went up in a meticulously planned inferno.

Hopefully there would be no casualties, but she couldn't afford to stick around and ensure that. Slipping the hood of her jacket over her head and pulling the strings tight, she rushed towards the nearest bus station and dreaded the conversation she would be soon having.

*****

Baz sighed in relief as Simon poured the cool lube over his hand and Baz's cock before he began stroking. Moisture still clung to Simon's upper back and the grey-eyed man thought that his husband was looking even more ethereal than usual. He couldn't remember the last time that they had sex outside of today, but Baz was pretty bloody sure that he was going to be remembering this moment until his dying day. 

He was going to remember Simon kissing every scratch, nick, and bruise along his body in the shower and the way those lips looked stretched out around his prick. How Simon was biting his lips and whimpering as Baz deepthroated him while working fingers into his tight arse. He would never be able to forget the way Simon looked right now, kneeling over him and inviting him to reach up and kiss those lips. Baz stretched up and claimed those lips once more.

It was never going to be enough.

Hands ran through the wet strands of his hair and tugged softly until he was lying back against the soft mattress. There were a few holes along the bedroom walls, but the room had thankfully remained mostly intact. Simon was leaning back now, his powerful thighs flexing as he lifted himself over the throbbing cock and carefully slid onto it. Baz was mesmerized by the scene in front of him, Simon breathing out in stutters and his face blissing out as he slid down slowly, one hand behind himself to keep the cock steady.

Cool hands settled against the heated skin of his husband's hips and he moaned softly as Simon began lifting and dropping himself shallowly in an attempt to help his body adjust to the stretch more quickly. It had been so long for the both of them and Baz was certain that he wasn't going to be able to last much longer. He thrashed his head against the mattress in an attempt to keep his hips from thrusting up into that heat. Toes curled and chests heaved. Simon kept that experienced hand behind himself to make sure that Baz didn't slip out as he rocked back and forth a bit and then dropped another inch. 

It felt heavenly and soon enough Simon was fully seated, tears shining at the corner of his eyes. Baz sat up and wiped those tears away before kissing those precious eyelids and that beautiful nose. He helped Simon lean back to offer a better angle as they began to rock against each other. Their lips were drawn to each other again and Baz wondered at how they had ever let themselves get pulled apart in the first place. 

Never again, he swore to himself.

No force on earth was going to keep him and Simon apart in this life, and he was certain that even death wouldn't be enough to keep them separate. 

"I love you, Simon," he whispered.

"I love you too, darling."

Simon settled his arms around Baz's shoulders and smiled into their kisses while Baz groped at the fleshy rear tightly and began thrusting up more intensely. Orgasm washed over him once more with shameless moans, and he felt the exhaustion settle into his body even more deeply. Simon slid back and off the softened prick before lubing up his own still erect member and sliding it between Baz's squeezing thighs. He had been generous with the lubrication and Baz just leaned back and enjoyed the pressure as Simon leaned heavily against him and frotted eagerly until he uttered a guttural groan and shuddered with his own release.

The two of them basked in the quiet of post-coital bliss, and enjoyed the fact that their bodies weren't aching yet with the punishment they inflicted on each other.

"That left of yours is a beauty," Simon complimented with a breathy laugh.

"Why thank you, love," Baz giggled in response. "You took it well." Simon rolled over to grab the readied washcloth and wiped them both down before Baz found the courage to ask a question. "That vacation in Aspen? You...you left early. Why?"

"Hmmm." Simon helped Baz scoot over and pulled the duvet over them while he thought back. "Oh! It was for the Goblin King!"

"Ooh, that was you?" Baz laughed before swatting Simon's arm. "I wanted that one!"

Their legs tangled together and Simon moved up to be at an even eye level before he settled once more and softly rubbed circles against Baz's ribs.

"You didn't hear the chopper drop me off for our anniversary dinner," he stated.

"What?" Baz laughed. "When?"

"Last year. I always thought it was weird because you're always so observant. I was ready for an interrogation, but you didn't even notice."

"That's strange," he murmured before a look of realization crossed his face. "Oh, that was the percussion grenades! I was partially deaf that night, and had to really lean on my lip reading skills."

"Wow, I didn't even notice," Simon chuckled.

"You didn't make it easy," Baz teased with a light slap to his husband's arse. "Mouth breather."

Simon's smile was wide, even for as tired as he was. Baz wondered how long it'd been since they had both been so relaxed around each other. Had they ever?

"I'm partially colorblind," Simon admitted, the smile still on his face. "Retinal scarring from a job that went sideways."

Baz offered the "okay" sign with his right hand and wiggled the three upright fingers. "I can barely feel anything in these three fingers." When Simon began laughing hard enough to hiccup, Baz tackled him against the bed. "What is it, you beautiful devil?"

"That explains," Simon wheezed before giggling again. "Fuck, I've always wondered why you favored f-fingering me with your left hand since...since you're right handed and...hell, it's a _job_ injury?"

Even Baz couldn't help but snort and giggle as he leaned into Simon's neck. He offered a few bites and suckled a hickey on that freckled skin before leaning up again to face that beaming face. "For your information, Mr. Snow, I rather like teasing your prostate when I'm fingering that beautiful arse and I enjoy using the full range of motion and sensation afforded by my left hand."

"I enjoy it too, Mr. Snow," Simon attempted to say with a straight face before he was snorting and laughing again. 

The sky was already lightening but they continued whispering about jobs and injuries, relishing the new discoveries about each other.

At least, until a window in the living room shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baz and Simon have passionate make-up sex. The cops have been called due to all that shooting from their fight, but they answer the door half-naked and scare off the cops and their next door neighbors. Then Baz and Simon go at it again.
> 
> Meanwhile, Penelope Bunce stumbles on some very sensitive data just as she sees rewards go out for hits on Baz, Simon, and herself. She destroys her electronics and her apartment and goes on the run. 
> 
> After Baz and Simon get done with their love-making marathon they lie around in bed and chat about injuries picked up on the job and also answer questions about each other honestly. It's a peaceful scene until they hear someone break into their house.


	18. Part 17

"Shit!" Baz hissed as he rolled out of bed and snatched his gun off the side table. 

"I had 48 hours to take you out," Simon admitted as he darted around the bed and quickly dug through the dresser for something to wear. 

Baz caught the boxer briefs tossed to him and replied, "Me as well, love. I guess that time's up."

"We should have left one of the fucking clocks intact," Simon grumbled before finally jerking one of Baz's button-ups off the hook by the door and pulling it on sloppily. 

Grey eyes admired those freckled legs for a moment, and Baz mentally promised to tell Simon just how much he enjoyed that view at a later time. When they weren't being hunted down. 

A canister rolled down the hall towards their room with smoke billowing out, and Baz snatched a white t-shirt off the floor and hoped for the best before crouching next to Simon by the door and squinting through the smoke. 

"We need to get to the vehicles," Baz whispered. 

There were already people in the house.

"No, they'll have that covered already," Simon whispered back. "Where are the weapons?"

"I got rid of most of them so that they'd be far from you!" Baz whisper-yelled in annoyance.

"That's very helpful right now, darling!"

Baz resisted the urge to throw a V towards his husband and tried to focus on pulling his designer wellies over his bare feet. Simon managed to slip on a pair of flip flops before the bullets began spraying overhead. 

"We might be able to get to the guns in the basement," Baz hissed before another round of fire had him ducking once more. 

Simon tossed him a hair tie and Baz tossed his pistol in exchange. "I'll lay down cover with the pistol, darling, and you run to the basement."

"Not bloody likely," Baz snapped in annoyance. "They'll kill you before I get back up!"

Now the blue-eyed man was looking insulted. "Come on, I know that I'm not _you_ , but I think that I can handle a few fucktards for the minute it takes you to get those and get back up."

"It's not that," Baz tried to explain before he was cursing a storm at the next round of gunfire. They were wasting time, and the smoke was beginning to make him cough. 

"Out the window?"

Baz peeked out and grimaced as he saw a few more people surrounding the property. They really needed to get out of the house and find a weapons cache. Dev would probably still help him, but what about the rest of his family? 

"Who do you work for?" he found himself choking out with a few more coughs.

"Watford," Simon replied back after firing a few warning shots with their dwindling ammunition. 

That made Baz choke even harder. "What?!"

Oh great, his family was definitely not going to help him if he insisted on keeping Simon. Even Aunt Fiona might ditch his sorry arse for taking up with someone who worked for the Mage!

Before Simon could question any further, the metallic sound of something rolling towards them caught their attention and Simon gasped at the bomb that rolled to a stop by their door. 

The brunette kicked the bomb back towards the kitchen, and Baz found himself really hating America and their obsession with keeping useful footballer techniques hidden away under the guise of "soccer" while instead promoting the uncontrollable and messy kicks of American Football. It was disgusting and even more annoying when their lives depended on it. The bomb rolled wildly out of control as it bounced back and forth along the hall before bouncing off towards the kitchen and presumably the gas line. 

He snatched the gun out of Simon's hand and took out the two blokes covering their side of the house before the explosion went off and sent the two of them flying out of the window and out into the bushes. A secondary explosion roared and the whole house seemed to go up in a blaze of hellfire. 

"D-damn," Simon groaned as he scrambled out of the bushes and rubbed at his pounding ears.

Baz groaned in response and cursed every landscaping specialist that told him these fucking bushes were the thing to do. Thorny leaves belonged in hell! Not in his fucking hair!

"The Colesons have a vehicle," he wheezed when he finally got to his feet. 

Simon's hair looked to be in a similar state as Baz's and the blue-eyed man was looking at the destroyed house with wide eyes and ash smudged on his face. 

"I've just got the one last clip, darling."

"Bugger," Baz growled before grabbing his husband's sleeve and dragging him through the neighboring trees and towards the Colesons. 

No doubt Chad and Karen were already outside snooping and he didn't want anyone seeing them escape. 

Breaking into the detached garage was child's play, and soon Baz was hotwiring the minivan while Simon tried to dump out as much crap as he could. Brushing back his loose bangs, Baz felt that another confession was appropriate at the moment.

"I never actually served in the Peace Corp," he announced to the back of the van.

"Aw!" Simon groaned in disappointment before throwing out a child's car seat. "I really liked that about you!"

Grey eyes rolled as the van roared to life. "Sorry," he mumbled as he clicked the garage door opener. 

Motion caught his eye as he backed out and Simon rested a hand on his shoulder to communicate that he saw the man as well.

"Well...I didn't actually graduate from MIT online."

"Oh?"

The van tires screeched as Baz floored the reverse, surprising the hitman trying to sneak up on them. The man went flying a few feet and Simon jumped out to take his weapons. 

"I never actually went to college at all!" Simon shouted back after offering the man a solid kick to the face. "But I always thought that I'd study art if I got the chance," he huffed as he slid back into the passenger seat. 

Baz raised an amused eyebrow as he intentionally backed over the unconscious man and drove them out of the neighborhood. There was a delicate balance in evacuating as quickly as possible without attracting any unnecessary attention from the police officers that were already racing towards what was left of their suburban home. They two remained silent as Baz worked towards the highway and Simon dug up a first aid kit that he used to tend to their injuries as best as he could. Stitches weren't exactly in the works, but soccer moms had lots of bandages.

The radio was playing a song by Taylor Swift that Simon was humming along to, and Baz began to wonder just how many more lies were tangled between them. He liked hearing all the stories about jobs that Simon did and the crazy stunts he survived, but what if there were things that he didn't like? At this point, being a target wasn't a deal-breaker, so was there anything that was?

"Do you actually cook, Simon?" he asked suspiciously.

"Yeah," came the confident reply. "Love it."

"Okay."

There was a few more minutes of silence before Simon leaned to the side and studied his husband.

"Baz...I actually really hate it when you say...burgled." That brought a shocked laugh to Baz as Simon shuddered and grimaced. "Ugh, it just sounds so...nasty."

"Nasty?!" Baz giggled.

"Yeah...ugh, not cute at all like I said. Please never say that again."

"Pfft, you want me to say _burglarized_? Like some Yankee?"

"If you ever want me to get it up again, yes. Please."

"Alright, well it absolutely rankles me when you call your trousers _pants_. Love, the pants go under the trousers."

Simon looked incredulous and it only made Baz laugh again. Hell, he hadn't laughed this much in years.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Why not just call them underwear? They're _under_ your _wear_."

"Trousers, denims, slacks...just don't call them pants."

"Ugh, fine." Grey eyes noticed some strange traffic flow behind him via the rear view mirror and tried to speed up. "Wait a minute!" Simon exclaimed.

"What?"

Those lovely arms crossed over his well-built chest and Baz couldn't help but admire through his peripheral vision how the material stretched over the much stouter frame.

"You were never in the Peace Corp, so what about that picture with you and all those African children? Did you photoshop yourself in that picture?!"

"Of course not!" he denied vehemently. "Those children were from a tribe in Nigeria, and I had picked up a job deposing their warlord. They were quite happy to be rid of him."

"Oh." 

Those shoulders relaxed and Baz turned his attention back to the rearview mirror. Three black cars were now advancing on them.

"Love, we've got some company."

Simon nodded and unbuckled his seatbelt before crawling towards the back. Baz tried to focus all of his attention on out-maneuvering the other cars, but there were three of them, and they were all being driven by trained agents. He wasn't sure which agency they were from, but they were solid. 

"We don't have a lot of ammo!" Simon warned as he pushed the button to open the hatched back of the minivan. 

The bullets were already flying their way, and Baz cursed quietly as his side window exploded in a spray of glass. Simon fired off a few shots but punched the button to close the back pretty quickly; they were going to need that metal as a shield from more bullets. He tried one of the side doors next, hanging out long enough to pop off a few more rounds before sliding it shut and panting for breath on the floor.

"Bulletproof?" Baz shouted back.

"Yeah!" Simon reloaded the pistol before pausing and looking over his shoulder. "Uh, darling?"

"Yeah?"

He rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment before deciding that since they were being honest and were trapped in a pretty serious life-or-death situation it was only right that he admit this to Baz.

"Well, I should probably tell you that...uh, I was actually married once before."

The tires screamed in protest as Baz slammed on the brakes and sent Simon flying up into the passenger seat while one of the cars chasing them smashed into the backside.

"You, lying piece of shit!" Baz yelled as he slapped and kicked at Simon with the hand and foot not currently controlling the vehicle.

"Are you crazy?!" Simon shouted as he tried to fend the blows off. "We're in a fucking car chase! What's wrong with you?!"

"You're what's wrong with me!" 

"It was a drunken thing in Vegas, okay!"

"Oh, 'cause that's bloody better!" Baz snapped as he managed to hit Simon a few more times before his husband was crawling back to try to deal with the hitmen.

"Fucking shit, Baz!" Simon growled before grabbing a club out of the golf bag on the floor and once more pressing the button to open the back. 

An undamaged car was racing right up to them and Simon leaned out as he saw one of the suited hitmen stand up through the sunroof with an automatic rifle. A few well-placed swings of the golf club had the man disarmed and dazed. He tried to pull the man's grenade out of his pocket but only came back with the pin.

"Oh shit, drive Baz! Go! Go! Go!"

The accelerator was stomped down on sending Simon rolling through the van once more, but the explosion from the vehicle still took out all of the back windows. Baz swerved around several cars and tried to weave through the traffic well enough to throw off the tail, but there were even more cars coming after them now. Damn it, were these the Mage's Men? It was hard to even think straight when Simon Snow decided to drop a truth bomb like that.

"What's his name and social security number?" Baz demanded heatedly.

"No, Baz, you're not going to kill her," he sighed while grabbing their only rifle. "She's a good person and is just out there trying to live her best life now."

"Oh, and you'd know this because?"

Baz could see the blush painting the tips of Simon's ears. "I follow up with her every once in a while, okay? She's a friend!"

"You're _friends_ with your ex-wife?!"

"Well," Simon tried to defend as he fired off a few more shots through an open side door, "we were friends before we started dating! After getting hitched and annulling it, things got a bit weird. But yeah, we're still friends!"

"You are a bloody wanker!" Baz yelled back at his husband angrily as he jerked the steering wheel and drove them into oncoming traffic for a bit. 

A man from the car that followed them tried to jump into the van through the open sliding door but Simon hastily jerked the other sliding door open and threw the agent right out. 

"Nice!" he congratulated himself before shutting both doors. "And come on, Baz! It's not like I'm the only person you ever dated! Don't be fucking hypocritical!" Baz shot him a withering glare through the mirror and Simon seemed to shrink back. "Uh, right?"

"Unfortunately, you _are_ the only person I've dated," he hissed back before offering a few more smacks. Simon yelped but decided not to complain anymore. "Any other large secrets you're keeping from me, _love_?" Simon winced at the tone, and Baz purposefully ran the van into an assassin vehicle on that side to throw Simon around a bit more. 

"I'm sorry!" Simon yelped as he rubbed his head. "Er, I'm an orphan, okay?! Was put in the system right after birth and never knew them!"

"Then who were those bloody people at the wedding?!"

"Paid actors," Simon grumbled.

Baz pinched his nose for a few seconds before jerking them back into the proper lanes. "You know, I don't even want to fucking talk about this right now, Simon."

Another car slammed into their side, trying to push them into the guardrail and Baz struggled to keep the van in control. Simon emptied the rifle clip into the vehicle, thankfully taking out a tire and sending them careering off into more traffic. There were still another few cars racing around the accident and catching up.

"Hey, we're out of ammunition," Simon panted tiredly. 

He looked very concerned and Baz suddenly felt pretty terrible. This could be their last few minutes on earth and he was going to get hung up on an old girlfriend and accidental wife? And fake parents? Did any of that really matter as much as the way Simon held him last night and this morning? The way they kissed, and the love they shared? 

_That_ wasn't a lie.

"I'll do my best, love," he muttered quietly. 

A warm hand settled on his shoulder. "I know, Baz."

No sooner had the words left Simon's mouth than one of the cars drawing close to them exploded into huge flames.

"What the-?!"

A projectile sailed right past their van and another car went up in a ball of flames and smoke. Baz glanced around in a panic, trying to spot the shooter when Simon gasped right next to him and pointed towards an overpass. 

"Is that-?"

Standing through a sunroof with dark hair whipping around her head like a halo of chaos, Fiona Pitch was leveling a bazooka in their direction. A plume of smoke burst out through the back of her weapon and the last vehicle chasing them down was taken out of the equation. She threw a few hand signs towards them before tossing the weapon off the overpass and ducking back into the vehicle. 

Baz jerked their vehicle to another lane and nodded. "Yeah."

"Didn't she-"

"Yes, Simon."

They were quiet for a few more moments and Simon settled back into the passenger seat looking both relieved and a bit more spooked.

Basilton sighed. "I can't believe I actually brought my real family to our wedding," he grumbled.


	19. Part 18

"Hello, Aunt Fiona," Baz groaned as he slid into the vinyl-covered booth of the cheap diner. 

The servers barely spared the two Snows a glance even though they were both half naked, and Simon swallowed thickly as he took in the three people squeezed into the booth across from them. He recognized them from the wedding but couldn't recall any names.

"Yo," Dev stated flatly as he settled a bit more against the other fellow, and Simon recognized the voice.

"Oh. Hi, Dev."

He received a wink but Fiona glared at the man before turning her attention back to Baz and Simon. "You two are in a boat load of shite," she snarled, lips curled in an exact replica of Baz's. 

"I know it looks bad," Baz tried but she put up a hand.

"I don' wanta hear it, boyo. Did you knowingly marry the Dragon ta piss of your Da?"

Baz startled and stared at Simon. "What?!"

"Okay, then this is bad," she sneered again, and this time Baz didn't even try to defend himself. 

"Well, I know he's Tyrannus Grimm-Pitch," Simon offered with a shrug. Her cold grey eyes studied him and he jutted out his jaw in a challenge. "Didn't know that till yesterday, but I know now and I don't care."

"Ya should," She replied before pulling out a cigarette and lighting up at the table. A waitress crept towards them but a glare from Fiona had her scurrying off once more. "Nothin' but trouble," she sighed before rubbing her temple with the unoccupied hand. "What's yer plan from here?"

"I need to get a hold of Penny as soon as possible," Simon insisted and the third guy jerked in alarm. 

"Penny? As in Penelope Bunce?"

Simon felt the color drain from his face, and Baz put a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"What have you heard, Niall?" the Grimm-Pitch Heir asked calmly.

The brunette glanced at Fiona and Dev nervously before nodding to himself and speaking. "Penelope Bunce had a hit put out on her last night. It's $400k for her dead; came from an unlisted account but the money is good and already accessible."

"Why her?" Simon asked nervously, tugging on his curls. Was it because he had dragged her into this mess?

"We don't know," Niall explained. "I'm sorry. Her hit came out at the same time yours did."

Baz sighed tiredly. "Did...did Father put out the hit on me?"

"Yer Da's a damn fool, but no," Fiona explained before taking a drag. "He'd never do that to ya, Bazzy."

"He did put the hit out on your hubby," Dev offered helpfully with a grin.

"Can I borrow a phone?" Simon asked anxiously. "If Penny's still alive I might have a way to reach her. We really need to."

Dev tossed his unlocked device on the table and Simon quickly pulled up Craigslist. He scrolled through the feeds until he settled on an ad listing a scratched up copy of the _Greatest Hits of Kansas_. He copied the listed number and texted it with the phone. A response came immediately and his shoulders relaxed. 

"She's okay?" Baz asked softly, his hand offering soothing rubs.

"I've got a meeting location," he sighed. "It's only good for the next hour so we're going to need to head out."

"That's fine," Dev replied. "I've got another vehicle for us lined up. And before you get all up my arse, Baz, it's not listed with the family."

Baz snapped his mouth shut and nodded. Fiona rolled her eyes and slid out of the booth before strutting out of the diner, her backside well highlighted by the tight high-waisted denims and the worn combat boots. Simon decided not to ask why a woman her age and in her line of work was dressed like an alternative rock singer. There would be time for that later.

"What does Penny have that we need?" Baz whispered quietly as their party quickly made their way to the nearby parking lot, his tattered wellies making soft smacking sounds against the sidewalk. 

"She's my friend," Simon hissed back in annoyance. "I don't need a reason to want to find her after I dragged her into a shit storm like this!"

Baz recoiled a bit and glanced away in frustration. Simon stared at the sidewalk under them and tried to tamp down his feelings again. Feelings were useless if they weren't helping him protect people. He loved Baz and wanted to keep him safe. He loved Penny, differently, and wanted to keep her safe. This was going to work. There was no reason to start losing control. 

The usual repetition of those words in his mind wasn't calming him down like normal, and even in his mostly naked state Simon started to feel himself get too hot. Baz's shirt was too constricting, too tight across the chest and arms and panic was clawing at his throat. 

_"Get your shit together, Salisbury!"_ he chided himself. 

Claustrophobia was just another obstacle to overcome, the Mage would say. Fear, failure, weakness - they were all nothing more than temporary setbacks that needed to be conquered. All of this was nothing but some very severe miscommunication, and Penelope would know how to fix it with the Mage. Sure, she wasn't exactly Baz's biggest fan, but if anyone could figure out a solution to an impossible situation it would be her. 

That's why the Mage hired her on and why he had allowed Simon to befriend her. They were a powerful team together - her critical thinking and sharp wit complimenting Simon's perseverance and high tolerance for enduring impossible odds and coming out on top. 

They were what really brought Watford back into real competition among the other hit agencies. If there was a hit out on Penny now, then surely the Mage was doing everything that he could to bring her back in. Protocol with Simon meant he had to stay away, but now that things had shifted so dramatically maybe the Mage would be willing to open up lines of communication? The Mage needed him, so maybe he was willing to figure out a way to make this thing with the Grimms and Pitches work? 

Even if he hated their guts. And actively tried to sabotage their organization.

Fiona took point in the military grade Jeep and Dev easily slid into the passenger seat after pulling out a few weapons from the back. Niall got Baz and Simon loaded down with the rest of the modest weapons cache before the three of them slid into the back. 

"Here's the plan," Dev explained as he twisted back to look at them. Fiona was already peeling out of the parking garage and heading off to the location Simon gave her. "Auntie and and Niall are going to stay with the vehicle and ensure an open escape route while Baz, the Dragon, and I go in prepared for a shoot-out."

"Penny wouldn't be setting us up," Simon explained tightly. 

"Doesn't matter," Dev replied as he smacked loudly on his chewing gum. "There could be people following us or following her or both. Probably both."

"How are we going to try to explain things to Father?" Baz asked next, tugging down on the t-shirt that was too short for him and had been constantly riding up his midriff since their exit from the exploding house. "I'm assuming that the three of you have already accepted that I'm not going to be leaving Simon or turning him over to any headhunters." He jerked at the hems of his boxers next, getting more uncomfortable with being in such a state of undress around his friends and family. 

"We got you, bro," Dev replied with a wink. 

"Mr. Grimm has already dispatched agents to recover you and take out the Dragon," Niall sighed. "Thank fuck that those guys on the freeway weren't Grimms, but the longer we're out here and not at the compound, the higher the chances are that we're going to be fighting out own people."

"Just leave them to me," Simon snapped. "I won't hesitate."

"You bloody well should!" Baz fired back in agitation. "Getting into my father's graces is the best option that we have, and he's not going to be all that amenable if we're killing off his agents!"

"But why do we have to go to _your_ family?!" Simon argued back. 

Dev watched between the two bickering men with raised eyebrows and Fiona glanced back in the rear view mirror discreetly. 

Baz scoffed. "Because that's the obvious choice, Simon! You don't have any family! And the Mage wants to kill me!"

Despite all the physical pain he was in, Simon felt like Baz took the lowest blow and stabbed him right through the heart with it.

"Listen you little bitch," he growled venomously as he leaned forward aggressively, "just because I don't know my birth parents and was fucking abandoned doesn't mean that I don't have _family_! The Mage, and Penny, and other people at that organization _are_ my family, okay? I didn't say shit about you potentially killing any of them so far because I fucking married you, but that doesn't mean I want to just roll over and offer my neck to that piece of shit Grimm!"

Niall shot Dev a panicked look, and the Grimm cousin just shrugged as he casually moved his pistol to aim at Baz's agitated husband through the passenger seat. A little bit of padding wasn't going to throw his aim off enough to get Baz hurt in the case that he needed to make an executive decision. 

Baz was blushing angrily, both at realizing his own poor word choice and at Simon's reaction to it. "That's not how you should talk to me, Simon!" he yelled, struggling to keep the angry tears at bay. "I didn't-"

"Oh, but you can go around insulting me?!"

"I wasn't-"

"Fuck you, Baz!"

Both men were clenching jaws and breathing heavily as they tried to decide if they were going to drop the conversation or unleash new verbal warfare.

"No fuckin' in Dev's car," Fiona ordered from the front seat. "Makeup sex or otherwise."

"And we're almost there," Niall added much more cautiously.

"Perfect," Simon grumbled as he turned towards the front and dropped himself back into his seat with a huff. 

Arms were once more crossed over his chest and Simon closed his eyes to take several long deep breaths. He was still feeling too hot, too trapped, and increasingly running out of options. He needed Penny, and he needed her soon. She could help him sort this all out.

Baz crossed his own arms and stared angrily out of the window. The past 48+ hours had been quite the emotional rollercoaster, and he wasn't sure what the hell to do next or if he could take anymore. Simon was the bloody Dragon of Watford?! Just perfect. And for Crowley's sake, hadn't he sworn to himself just this morning that he wouldn't let anything pull him and Simon apart again? And here they were, doing it themselves. Instead of magnets drawing towards each other they had flipped and were repelling. 

Were they ever going to get this right?

Fiona pulled into an open parking space on the side of the street. "We're here, Dragon. Where's the meetup?"

Blue eyes glanced up at the colorful streets full of artists and their wares. His eyes settled on a booth covered in piles of magazines and with a bold monochromatic banner in the front.

"CRYPTIDS LIVE AMONG US! Change my mind."

"Right there," Simon replied with a smile of relief.


	20. Part 19

"Mothman is totally made up," Simon stated confidently and with a wide grin.

Dark eyes covered in gold-rimmed glasses looked up in amusement. "State your argument, doubter!"

"No cryptid could possibly be that handsome," Simon shot back, and soon the two men were cackling in amusement.

Baz looked both horrified and confused, but decided to remain silent and let his husband run point on this. 

"It's good to see you," the dark-skinned man stated casually after they finished laughing. "Wasn't sure you'd make it."

"Eh, you know me. How is she?"

"Predictably pissed off. It's killing her that I needed to step in."

"Yeah, I figured she'd be." Simon crossed his arms and glanced around the crowd for a minute before looking back down at the other man. "I've got to move quick. See you soon."

The still unnamed man just grinned and handed Simon a glossy magazine with an outline of Bigfoot decorating its front. "Enjoy the hunt, friend."

Simon gave a salute and then strode off, the two Grimm cousins silently following behind in confusion. Once they were all in the vehicle Simon flipped the publication open, and found a page with letters circled.

"Okay, here's the new address," he muttered before typing it on Fiona's offered phone. 

She took a glance at the directions and then tossed the device to Dev for disposal. He dismantled the phone quickly and tossed pieces out as they drove through the network of streets. 

"Dragon, you an' Dev will go to this new location and get the go-head before the rest of us come up," Fiona barked sternly.

He bristled at her tone. Taking orders from Dev had been easier because at least he had a playful and kind tone (even if it _was_ laced in sarcasm). Fiona didn't pull any punches and wasn't trying to hide her distaste for him or Watford. 

_"Bitch,"_ Simon thought to himself. _"Oh, she's probably the Pitch Bitch."_ That made sense now.

"Whatever," he grumbled in annoyance as he checked over the weapons for the twentieth time. He didn't trust weapons handed to him by anyone associated with the Grimms.

The rest of the drive was silent, with Simon trying his hardest not to lose what little cool he had left. Even though that small respite with a friend had calmed him down a bit, Simon was surrounded by the sworn enemies of the Mage. They all pretty much hated him and probably thought that he was an incompetent fool. It didn't matter that his record was phenomenal and that the Mage trusted him with the biggest and most dangerous jobs. The Mage personally trained him! He wasn't a joke!

But of course, Baz had to make him feel that way. 

Perfect Baz who brought his actual family to the wedding because he actually had one. And who never had an oops-marriage from a drunken night in Vegas. It had been by sheer luck that he had married Agatha instead of Penny that night, all three of them just trying to have fun on the Vegas Strip and ending up smashed out of their minds. The Mage hadn't been impressed when he found them all the next morning.

Agatha's purpose had been to reign in Simon and ground him into something solid that he could come back to between missions. It wasn't supposed to be anything like a _real_ relationship; just somewhere Simon could bust his nut and enjoy a semblance of a relationship without any of the actual work or trouble with one. 

It hadn't taken Simon long to realize that Agatha hadn't really wanted any part of the arrangement, but was only doing it because she didn't want to risk her family's welfare. Her father Dr. Wellbelove had been dragged into the organization to tend to injuries when they needed a bit more expertise, and she didn't want the Mage to put a target on her family for failure to comply. 

Simon had known that it was all his fault, his stupid mouth for admitting to the Mage that he thought Agatha was cute - her long blonde hair and pale skin the perfect picture of a princess. So he broke them up, telling the Mage that he didn't like the distraction of a girlfriend and that he wanted more dangerous jobs. Agatha was let go without repercussion, and the Mage had completely put the idea of Simon getting laid or in a relationship out of his mind until the day he learned in horror that Simon was going to get married.

The ache throbbing in his head began spreading more as Simon tensed up further. It was the most angry the Mage had ever been with him, and there were a lot of hurtful things said. Simon had taken it all because he _loved_ Baz and was certain that they could work it out. He had always felt like Baz excelled in everything and was the most competent person on the planet, and the discoveries of the past 56 hours had not changed that. In fact, he found himself even more impressed with his husband.

But now he also felt even worse about himself and what he thought Baz thought about him. 

Baz knew his code name and after the initial shock he seemed...unimpressed. Annoyed even. He didn't ask Simon's opinion on what they should do, but rather bulldozed over him and made plans with his own family members. He hadn't seemed to care about Penny beyond what she could do for them, and he sure as hell wasn't concerned about the emotional turmoil Simon was dealing with in regards to the Mage and Watford.

Simon _killed_ people that worked for Watford today. He recognized some of the vehicles and the tactics used, but he had killed them anyway because they were going to hurt Baz. However, Baz was making it pretty clear that he didn't feel the same way.

 _"Maybe Baz wasn't willing to kill me yet,"_ Simon thought as he pulled apart the pistol for inspection again, _"but that doesn't mean he won't change his mind later. Especially if it means he gets back in Daddy's good graces."_

But...Baz was willing to risk being out of those graces right now. He rubbed his temples in aggravation and just hoped that they would be getting to Penny soon.

*****

"Ya need ta dump him, boyo," Fiona said the moment Simon shut the car door behind him.

Baz bristled. "No."

She turned in the seat to face her nephew and scowled. "There's no time for this, Bazzy."

"Don't call me that!"

Niall rolled his eyes and settled further back into his seat to steer clear of the ensuing argument. 

"Things are going to shite real quick, and if ya don't steer clear of him you're goin' ta get caught in the collateral."

"Grimms and Pitches are not collateral," Baz quoted automatically. "We create collateral."

"Aye. This is going ta have a hell of a lot of collateral; I'm going ta make sure of that. An' yer either behind me or I'll mow ya down."

Baz growled in frustration and stared out the window to gather his thoughts. If Fiona decided to make things difficult, then things were indeed going to be bloody difficult. 

"Why can't you support me on this, Aunt Fiona?" he asked tiredly. Hell, it had been too long since he had some decent sleep. 

She snorted in amusement. "And why would I support anythin' related ta that fuckin' Davy? The man who stole my sister's organization?! Not fuckin' likely!"

"Simon is his own person, Fiona! Just because he works at Watford doesn't mean that he agrees entirely with the Mage!"

"He's obviously not keen on just joinin' the family."

Baz gestured wildly to the vehicle and presumably to outside it as well. "We've had less than three days!!! And we were trying to kill each other for about two of those! You can't blame him for being a little distrustful and concerned!!!"

"The Dragon's been hand-trained by Davy, Baz," Fiona growled angrily. "He's been indoctrinated and spoon-fed hate for the Grimms and Pitches!"

"Then why the hell hasn't he been sent after us before now?!"

Fiona gestured to the two of them. "Because he might have set this whole thing up! Why wouldn't the Mage set the two of you up, and have you develop feelings so that he could take advantage of that?! Manipulate you, boyo!!! And yer lettin' him!"

"Even if the Mage was trying, that doesn't mean that...Simon obviously wasn't involved!"

"He didn't have ta be in the damned office meetings ta be complicit! All the Mage had ta do is train him ta be a fuckin' lap dog! And he is!"

"You don't-"

Baz clenched his fists and closed his eyes as he took deep breaths and ran through his mental file on the Dragon. Everything pointed to a pretty fucking loyal member of the Watford agency with a devastating reputation. The Grimms had been intentional about steering clear of him for a reason.

But, a mindless follower of the Mage wouldn't be the first one to throw his weapon down. A mindless follower wouldn't remain sure of his husband's love and be willing to put his own life in Baz's hands _multiple_ times. Those were not Davy Mage's techniques or policies. 

"Aunt Fi," Niall sighed. "Are you planning on talking to Mr. Grimm and returning to the family compound?"

Her face was set in determination.

"I won't go back this time," she replied firmly. "Davy's makin' his moves and I'm not goin' ta let him get away this time."

Baz nodded and stared her down with just as much intensity. "And I'm not leaving Simon. Regardless of where you intend to stand."

She snarled in disappointment, and Baz tamped down the hurt in his chest.


	21. Part 20

"Simon!" Penelope exclaimed as she pulled him into a tight hug.

Leaving Dev to secure the location, Simon squeezed her back and buried his face in her warm neck. "Pen," he whispered, feeling emotions bubbling up. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't make a fuss," she croaked in an attempt to keep her own emotions under control. "You know that I'm more likely to drag you down than you are to me."

They both chuckled a bit wetly, and remained hugging for a bit longer. 

"Shep's stoked," Simon murmured against her skin.

"Oh, I'm sure he is," she growled, and it brought another chuckle from her friend. "He'll be here soon, so we might want to get started."

"Okay," he replied with a deep breath before rubbing his eyes roughly with his hand. "Is it up to your standards, Dev?"

The Grimm walked back with a saunter that looked similar to Baz's if Baz had been purposefully obnoxious. 

"Good enough for now, Chosen One." Simon rose both eyebrows up in surprise and Dev cackled. "Because I can bloody guarantee that Baz is telling his Aunt to fuck herself while he sticks with you."

Penelope choked a gasp in surprise. "The Pitch Bitch is here?!"

Dev laughed loudly as he marched out of the apartment to get the rest of their party.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Things got a bit messy."

"I can imagine," Penny grumbled as she gestured for him to follow her to the couch. "Well, I didn't want to just spring this on you right now, but I need to tell you something before the others come back."

"What is it?" he asked in concern, putting a hand over hers. She looked so exhausted, and right now she was probably the most scared he'd ever seen. "You can tell me anything."

"I'm so sorry, Simon," she whispered earnestly. "I found something that I wasn't supposed to."

"About me?"

She nodded. "Simon, I...well, you..." She struggled to find the words but a nervous glance at the door gave her the strength to push forward. "Simon, the Mage is your biological dad! He had a relationship with some girl that worked in Watford back when it was under Natasha Pitch, and after she got killed he left you in the foster system!"

Simon stared at her blankly, feeling as if the bottom had been dropped out from under him. "What?"

"Shit, I'm so sorry, Simon. He did it to launder your identity and keep you from being found by anyone! As best as I can tell he always intended to get you back but it was five years before he was able to step in as a leader of Watford after Natasha was killed and it took another five years before a lot of the in-fighting and political maneuvering settled into the agencies and organizations we currently have!"

"Okay," he whispered calmly, not knowing what he was supposed to be thinking or feeling.

"But that's not all, Simon! I think it's why he put the hit out on me!"

"The Mage wouldn't-"

"Simon! He's been the shadow puppeteer of almost all the other hit organizations in the world! He's been culling out those that weren't willing to work under him, and placing people of power to do his bidding for the past fifteen years or so! The Grimms and Pitch Bitch are the last ones outright refusing to go under his thumb! No one is supposed to know this! Shit, Simon, he's literally the most powerful man on the planet right now!"

"And I'm..."

They could hear the footsteps in the hall, likely an attempt not to surprise Simon and incite an accidental shoot-out.

"You're his son and he's been grooming you to take over everything!" she whispered desperately. "If what I know gets out this could all blow up on him, and the Mage isn't going to let that happen! He's been preparing you, Simon, but if you stay on my side and stay with Baz...I think that he's going to try to take you out or at the very least get you taken out of commission until he can recondition you."

They both leaned away from each other as the door opened and let in the others. Penny laughed a bit hysterically.

"What?" Baz asked in annoyance.

"You were all at the wedding," she explained. "Fucking hell."

"Kind of obvious that we aren't Blacks now, isn't it?" Dev laughed.

"I just can't believe that Tyrannus brought his _actual_ family to the wedding," she explained incredulously.

Baz growled in annoyance, not wanting to admit that he had been berating himself for that exact thing. His attention was diverted when he saw the far off stare on his husband's face.

"Are you okay, love?" he asked as he strode over quickly.

Penny averted her eyes, trying to not get too good a look at those exposed legs and stomach. She hadn't been too bothered with Simon's state of undress since they had spent several years living together and Simon was a shameless roommate, but his husband was another story.

"Shep has some clothes in the guest bedroom," she squeaked.

Simon smiled tiredly at Baz and took his hands, seemingly already having forgotten about their earlier disagreement. It made the taller man worry, but he didn't want to say anything that might set off Simon in the wrong way right now. They needed to be a team, fighting _together_. Not against each other.

"Why don' ya tell us a good reason not ta dump yer sorry arse, girlie, while the boyos get dressed," Fiona ordered in a less-than-friendly manner.

Penelope Bunce was more than equipped to deal with her and harrumphed immediately. "First of all, Miss Bitch, I'll have you know that I am an accomplished..."

Her tirade was cut off as Baz and Simon closed the door behind them. Baz's hands rested softly on Simon's shoulders and he felt more worry at that detached expression. He recognized it as something that would happen after they had long discussions about having a baby, and now he wondered even more what it meant. Was Simon just overwhelmed? Was he upset about something? Did he hate Baz, and regret ever letting him live?!

"Love, I...I need a little reassurance here."

Blue eyes glanced up at his face. "Hmm?"

"Are you still with me?" he asked quietly and nervously. "I know that we haven't sorted anything out yet, but I want to. Sort it out. With you."

"Oh," Simon replied softly. "Yeah, sure. That's fine."

The discomfort clenched in Baz's stomach even more tightly.

"Simon...we need to be in agreement."

Simon offered a pained smile. "Okay. I agree with whatever you want."

*****

Shepard took extra precautions as he meandered back to his apartment, his heart pounding excitedly. Finally! He was finally getting to the bottom of this crazy web of lies and events that had been tangled around his brain for far too long! He knew that having Penny by his side would make things easier, her hacking and research skills being at a whole different level compared to his. She had been privy to the insides of the very organizations he'd been trying to understand for almost half his lifetime.

It had been sheer luck when he ran into her and Simon, and it had taken hard work to keep them as friends. Penny never wanted to make things easy, even when he tried to make it clear that he wanted to be more than friends and colleagues. 

Penelope Bunce, the absolute dream girl. She could probably kick his ass in an arm wrestling match, was confidently outspoken, well read, had a sharp sense of humor, couldn't cook to save her life, stunningly beautiful with those dimpled knees and curly hair, and knew how to dump his body properly should the desire to kill him ever finally outweigh her moral reasons not to.

Ah, he was smitten for her. 

Now that she and Simon were in trouble with Watford and desperate enough to reach out to him, Shepard was hoping that his days in intelligence was finally going to pay off those dividends. And maybe if he played his cards right, when the smoke settled Penelope would finally see that he was serious about her. Serious enough to risk his career and his life. 

Stepping out of his rusty Nova, the excited young man glanced up towards his apartment window and wondered what he would be stepping into.


	22. Part 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: this chapter contains fat-shaming and weight-centered thoughts.

_28 years ago_

"I can't wait for the new summer wear line to drop," Chrissy sighed before she took a sip from her fizzy beverage. "Blue is not really my color, but I'm dying to try it this year. I think Kevin will actually start talking to me."

Lucy glanced over in surprise at the middle aged man who managed over them. "Kevin, as in...our manager Kevin?"

"Yeah," Chrissy laughed. "He's been sending looks my way, and I've been kind of feeding into it. It would be totally hot to be involved with an older guy, don't you think?"

Tugging uncomfortably on her curly blond hair, Lucy grinned weakly. "Uh..."

"Don't tease the little virgin," Mavis laughed, making Lucy blush more deeply. 

"Ooh, maybe you should go after Kevin!" Chrissy exclaimed with wide eyes. "He likes you already, and those baby blue eyes could make him do anything!"

"I don't think-"

"Oh great," Mavis interrupted again and gestured for the other two to tone it down. "David's back here again!" she hissed. "I hope he doesn't touch my fucking computer..."

Blue eyes glanced nervously under uneven blond bangs and watched as the semi-familiar young man strode through the office with singular intent towards the computer lab.

"Why's he always coming to the office?" she asked curiously. "None of the other agents do."

"That's because they're not all anal retentive jerks," Chrissy giggled. "Oh no, Lucy! I think he's headed towards your station!"

"You better go save your computer!" Mavis warned. "Not only is he a jerk, but the bastard is not that great at using the damned electronics, and he keeps fucking out shit up!"

Lucy gulped down her nerves and took a final sip of her own drink before speed walking to the computer lab where all the techs and handlers worked. She hadn't been with Watford very long, but she'd been happy to finally start getting a rhythm with how to work with all the software and equipment. If this David guy really did suck bad enough at using electronics then she'd practically have to start from scratch and Mrs. Natasha Pitch wouldn't be too pleased.

"Uh, h-hello," she greeted as she watched him click on the same icon twelve times in a row without giving it a chance to boot up.

Hazel eyes looked up in surprise and Lucy felt herself grow a bit warm. This David guy was quite handsome. Not exactly movie-star tall, but still a good height and it looked like he worked out. Which made sense if he was in the field. But he also had a very nice face and enough stubble to almost give him a bad-boy look if he didn't look so much like a sweetie. He also had very nice hands, something that she was picky about.

Unfortunately, those hands were abusing her computer right now and she needed to get him to _stop_.

"Is this your computer?" he asked directly. Those eyes were staring right into hers and it made her blush more deeply. Damn her pale skin!

"Y-yes. Uh, please stop clicking."

He looked back down at his hand and the mouse as if surprised that he was still clicking.

"Oh. Yes. Sorry. It's just not working."

"Yeah, that would be because you're overloading the system with requests," she tried to explain politely. "One double-click should do the trick, but you've got to give it a second to boot."

"Yeah." He leaned back from the desk and crossed his arms, impatiently tapping a formidable bicep with his fingers. She would have thought that he was upset if it wasn't for his calm face. 

"Uh, if you're not...good with computers..." Was that a rude thing to say? "...why hasn't the head office assigned you an office agent yet?"

He was back to staring directly in her eyes and Lucy felt that all of his intensity was just burning right through her.

"I've had a few, but they don't work out. They don't understand when I want to make a change to the system, and I don't like wasting time trying to explain why I want things done the way that I want them to."

"B-but, we're all familiar with protocol," she tried. It had been a huge part of her training before she was even allowed anywhere near the computers. Why would he have to explain anything?

"I don't always like following protocol," he explained easily and her eyes widened. 

"What?"

"Protocol isn't always as efficient and it doesn't always make sense during an operation. There needs to be a degree of flexibility. I've been talking to the head office about it, but it's been a bit of a struggle to get my point clearly across since I'm not familiar with the technical side of things." He gestured to the computer still struggling to pull up the program. "I know what would make Watford run better, but I'm still trying to work out how to get the systems in line with it all."

Lucy pressed the power button to give the poor desktop a hard restart and offered David a kind smile.

"I know that I'm pretty new here, but I could help you with whatever you need."

Those beautiful eyes widened in surprise and a delighted smile curled on his lips. Lucy took great efforts to keep from staring at those lips too much. They looked like movie star lips or something.

"That's brilliant! What's your name?"

"Lucy," she squeaked and her eyes widened when he shoved forward a hand and took hers for a vigorous shake. Her arm had never endured such a violent motion before.

"Lucy, I will give you my agent ID and take your contact information. You should probably also give me your personal information as well so that I can contact you after hours. I work all the time."

"O-okay," she giggled. 

Was that supposed to be a sneaky way of asking for her number so that he could call about non-work related things? Because if it was, it worked. She was definitely giving this guy her number.

If she thought David's intensity had been blinding before, Lucy thought that he went supernova upon receiving the office stationary that held all of her work and personal contact information. He placed a hand on her shoulder and stared directly into her eyes while he leaned forward excitedly.

"We're going to do great things together, Lucy. I know it. And please, call me Davy."

*****

Yawning widely, Lucy wondered if she should be annoyed that Davy made her work late for the fourth time this week. Her mother had been paging her like crazy, always scared that her only daughter was going to get jumped and violated on the short walk from the office to their townhouse, and Lucy sighed in annoyance. Every time her mom made a fuss like that it only made her feel more self conscious of the fact that she had never been attractive enough to have a guy ask her out or even flirt with her. She was 19 years old, for crying out loud! And nice! 

But eternally the dumb, ugly, fat friend. Completely unattractive. Even though she wasn't dumb.

Burying her hands further into her coat pockets she smiled at all the memories of Davy complimenting her intelligence. He always seemed surprised when she could make his vision a reality, but it was in a way that made her feel like he expected the impossible and was pleased that she could deliver. He never made her feel stupid. And even if he didn't exactly stoke her ego, he wasn't shy about telling her exactly how useful she was.

"We've made more progress in the past three months than I've managed on my own in a year and a half!" he told her in that charmingly direct manner that would have had her swooning if she wasn't already seated in an uncomfortable office chair.

Davy liked to stand.

There was a rowdy group of guys standing at the bus stop, and she scooted as far away on the sidewalk as she could. Serial killers didn't exactly always kill pretty girls, right? Maybe her mother was onto something. Davy would say that she should do some research on finding the things that connected all victims and actively avoid that. She'd never known any field agents to be into as much research as Davy was. He always had a book nearby and was constantly telling her about new theories and tactics. Lucy honestly couldn't keep up with him most of the time, but she enjoyed listening to him talk and he enjoyed talking to her. 

"Hey, I didn't know that it was whale watching season!" one of the punks laughed, bringing Lucy out of her Davy-inspired stupor. 

She glanced firmly at the sidewalk and hoped that they would leave her alone.

"C'mon, give us a bit of a squeal!" another guy laughed. "Isn't that what all fat animals say?"

His friends roared with laughter and she felt moisture welling in her eyes. Why did people have to be mean? They didn't even know her!

"Hey, what the-"

By the time she turned around to see what was going on, Lucy found herself startled to see a familiar figure standing over the group of choking and groaning boys. Davy offered a kick to one of the guy's face, making him squeal in pain and then leaned over to grab another firmly by the throat.

"Do you want me to crush your vocal cords so that the only sound you'll be able to make for the rest of your miserable life is a pathetic squeal for help?" he asked calmly even with a sneer on his lips. 

The boy made a choked gurgle in response.

"Don't!" Lucy hissed as she glanced around. The bus would be there any minute! "Leave them alone!"

Those hazel eyes considered her for a moment before he came to a decision. The guy in his grip slumped, hopefully from passing out, and Davy dropped him to the ground carelessly. The third member of the group was already unconscious, a gash across his forehead from where it connected with the streetlamp before he crumpled.

Davy stepped over the mess of bodies and took her by the arm before dragging her along the sidewalk. She half-heartedly tried to tug her arm out of his grip before just letting him drag her. As surprised and honestly a bit horrified as she was over that violent display, Lucy was also strangely...happy. Davy wasn't talking to her and he seemed annoyed, but the fact that he had heard those guys meant that he had been nearby. Not only had he been nearby, but he obviously didn't agree with those guys and even more, he _defended_ her honor. 

It was the closest thing to a romantic gestures that someone had ever done for her. 

"We're here," he snapped in agitation and she glanced up to see her home.

"How-"

"You gave me all of your personal contact information," he snapped. "And even if you didn't, I'm a fucking hitman! I can figure it out!"

Glancing around to make sure that no one was near, she stepped to better face him. "Okay," she offered softly. "I was just surprised, Davy. I didn't mean that you were incapable or anything. I know you far too well to think that."

He huffed but seemed to calm down a bit. Still, his grip was iron. "Don't let people talk to you like that," he ordered.

"What am I supposed to do?" she laughed. 

"What I did," he responded earnestly.

"I..." Her blue eyes studied him, but Lucy couldn't seem to figure out what was going on in that busy brain of his. "Davy, I'm not in the field. I don't know anything about fighting! And I don't want to hurt anyone. They weren't saying anything that was...wrong..."

Davy made a frustrated noise at the back of his throat and Lucy almost laughed. He'd never had such little composure before, but she would never actually laugh. It would hurt his feelings, and Lucy didn't want to hurt him.

"You need to learn, Lucy," he urged her. "I'm going to teach you, and we'll start next week. Rest up this weekend, because it's going to be a tough regiment."

"B-but...I don't want to go out into the field."

"It doesn't matter!" He was holding both of her arms tightly now, and they were almost chest to chest. "You have to love yourself enough to defend yourself against worthless pieces of shit like that!"

As much as she felt flattered by his concern, she also felt a little pang of hurt.

"And why should you care, Davy?!" she shouted back in frustration. "You were too embarrassed to even walk me home! They were right because I'm a heavy girl and that's the only thing that any guy ever sees! That I'm nothing but a fat whale or pig or whatever else is fat!"

Davy looked absolutely gobsmacked.

"What?"

"Yeah, that's right!" Her eyes felt moist, and even her humiliation with the situation couldn't stop the tears. "That's all that any guy sees, and that's all you'll-"

The sudden change in perspective caught her by surprise and for a moment she was seeing the dark midnight sky where the stars would be twinkling if it wasn't for all the bright city lights. And then she felt those superstar lips pressing against hers, and her knees really did wobble. Davy's firm arm was secure around her waist and held her up as he kept kissing her senseless. She had been dipped like a princess, and his arms never trembled or made any kind of protest about holding her up.

Time meant something different in his arms, and for the first time Lucy thought that maybe a fairytale ending wasn't just a pipe dream. When he pulled her back up and straightened to look her in the eye, she thought that Davy never looked so handsome.

"Listen to me, Lucy," he ordered and she nodded breathlessly. "We're going to do great things together, and the both of us need to be the best versions of ourselves to get there."

"Diets don't work for me," she admitted in embarrassment.

"What? No, I'm not talking about your weight! You're fine the way you are."

"I am?"

He looked even more confused by her fixation on her weight and figure. 

"Your size doesn't matter as much as your being in well enough shape to defend yourself! Your brain is a precious commodity, and we work together too well for me to want to lose you! I'm going to do everything I can to ensure that you stay with me, but you've got to be willing to put in the work too!"

"It kind of sounds like-"

"Are you willing to put in the work?" he demanded with the same intensity that he did everything else.

"Um, yes," she agreed. "Are you...are you asking me out?"

Davy seemed to contemplate that for a minute before nodding firmly. "Yes, that works."

"Okay," she giggled before cautiously reaching out to take his hand. 

"We'll need to remain professional at work," he reminded her, but his hand clasped hers warmly. "But I'll start walking with you on your way home. It'll be more efficient to add training that way."

"Sounds good to me, Davy," Lucy giggled. 

A grin formed on Davy's lips, and in that moment before he leaned in for another kiss she thought that he looked more happy than she had ever seen him.


	23. Part 22

_ 26 years ago _

Lucy had never felt so tired in her life before and she was a bit frightened that things weren't going to get much easier after next week. How was she going to even function?

"Salisbury?"

She paused in packing up her bag for home and glanced up to see Mrs. Natasha Pitch standing at the door of her office with a little bundle strapped to her chest. 

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Please come to my office for a moment."

"Yes, ma'am."

With a flick of luxurious raven hair, Natasha was back in her office and awaiting her employee. Lucy sighed. All she wanted to do was trudge home and crawl into bed to sleep until Davy got home and fed her. He'd been so good about nourishing her and rubbing her aching feet and hips any time she asked. 

Tears pricked at her eyes just thinking about Davy and how much he meant to her. Taking a few calming breaths, she ran through the mental exercises Davy had given her and was soon back under control. At least until the next hormonal wave crashed over her. She stuffed a few tissues into her pocket just in case. 

Mrs. Natasha Pitch's office was stunning, and Lucy always felt her breath catch when she walked in. The Pitch family had a reputation of being cold and hard, something that their familial grey eyes seemed to enforce, but when she stepped through the door Lucy could just feel the warmth surrounding her. Dark woods complimented the light colors of the fabrics and the top of the line computer equipment was softened by all the potted plants and the little corner that she had decorated to be her son's space. 

Little Tyrannus was already attempting to get more mobile and there were more than a few agents who enjoyed taking a peek in to see what the baby was up to during the day. Lucy's eyes softened as they settled on the dark head peeking out from the wrap on Mrs. Pitch's chest and she had to resist the urge to place a hand on her own belly.

"Would you like a seat?" Natasha offered, her eyes studying the woman standing meekly in front of her.

"Oh, thank you," came the relieved response. 

Natasha kept the pleasant smile on her lips even as she felt like frowning. Lucy had been with Watford for a couple of years now and had always done exemplary work. The only marks against her record was the fact that she was actively involved with and helping the wildcard agent David. But this past year Natasha had begun to grow concerned even more. 

David had some strange ideas about how things should operate for an agency like Watford, but Natasha had chalked that up to him being born outside of the system and stepping into it later in life. Her own family had been in the assassination business for centuries and even though it had taken on many different forms throughout those years, the family business was always something that the Pitches prided themselves on. No family holiday was complete without comparing notes on difficult hits, politics, and strategies. 

She had even married into another distinguished family in the business, their son a seal to an alliance and the future of this ever changing world. David didn't understand any of this. He had lots of ideas, but he didn't understand the delicacies that kept the balance around the world. As for Lucy, she was even further removed from this world. She was a college kid they scouted and brought in, a wizard with the computers but someone who had zero aptitude for the manipulations and political dancing that was required for the higher levels of management.

And as far as Natasha could tell, Lucy was happy to be away from all of that. She liked her work in research and development and enjoyed staying far away from any of the actual field work. David, however, was not content in his place. Natasha had taken note of all the extra time the two had been spending together and had decided to let it carry on since they demonstrated that they were an effective team. David wasn't coming around and screwing up their computers anymore or annoying the hell out of her office agents, and the man was also a lot more focused on his missions and hit statistics. 

Unfortunately, the longer they were together, the more stressed and worn out Lucy began to look. The last few months she had called in sick many more times than she had the last couple of years, and the dark rings under her eyes couldn't be hidden with makeup anymore. Natasha really didn't want to get involved in the love lives of any of her employees, but she also didn't want a relationship hurting anyone. Lucy was a nice kid, and if David was hurting her then she wouldn't hesitate to put her foot down.

"How are you doing, Lucy?" she asked kindly.

The young girl gave her a shaky smile. The 10 years of difference between the two of them seemed so much wider than it should have been, but maybe it was because of Lucy's baby face. All soft curves, golden freckles, and wide blue eyes.

"I'm well, thank you. Ma'am."

Basilton shifted around against her chest before letting out a soft burp and settling down again. She placed a gentle hand on his soft head.

"How are things going at home?"

Natasha noted the hesitance on the girl's face.

"Fine," she replied too cheerily. "It's all fine."

"Are you still living with your mother?" she asked conversationally, before taking a sip from her tea cup. 

"Uh, no ma'am. I've been living...with, uh, I mean, we've got a place."

"You and David?" 

A blush colored those freckled cheeks prettily. "Yes, ma'am."

"He's a very particular man," Natasha stated with a kind smile. "How is he to live with?"

"I'm very happy to be with him," Lucy admitted with a smile large enough to make her eyes squint. 

Natasha couldn't detect a lie in that.

"That's good. It took me a while to get used to living with Malcolm," she shared with a wry grin. "It helps that he has his family's compound to go off and nit pick, and give me a break."

The two women shared a laugh and Lucy tucked some unruly curls behind her ear.

"I'm really so lucky, Mrs. Pitch. Davy takes care of a lot of the house work even though he goes off on so many missions. He's very kind to me."

The concern was melting away and Natasha wondered if the girl was maybe just down with colds and flus this year. It had been a rough one around the office.

"I noticed that you've taken a lot of sick time off lately, so I wanted to check in with that as well," she added and noted the tension in the girl's shoulders. "Don't worry, you do excellent work here, and I'm not looking for a way to get rid of you. I just wanted to recommend a ginger tea that I've found help me with a multitude of ailments."

"Oh, okay!" Lucy replied in relief.

"I also really load up on the garlic food during the colder months, but if you've been under the weather I'd do the same for that even though summer is already on us."

She wrote down the information in her loopy script, and they chatted a little bit on how ornery Basilton was getting already before Lucy was begging to be off. Natasha smiled and waved her off, hoping that things would start looking up.

*****

Warm lips pressed a kiss to her soft stomach out of habit before Davy moved up to kiss the naked pink baby. Lucy couldn't even try to hold back tears anymore, so she just let them run down her swollen cheeks and offered the man a shaky smile. He patted back her sweaty hair and offered her a soft kiss.

"How was the little dragon today?" he asked before standing up and unloading all of his weapons on the bedside table. 

"He's quite the hungry little boy," she sighed happily. "I'm so tired, Davy."

"Don't worry, Lucy," he comforted. The man brought her another plate of peanut butter pancakes but she oddly didn't feel hungry. Just so tired. 

"You haven't been drinking enough water, he noted as he looked over all the gallons that had been pre-marked for portions. "Come on, you'll need to drink more if you want your milk supply to come in."

"Okay, Davy," she murmured, eyes closed.

He patted her head fondly. 

"I know that you didn't get the same pregnancy and birth experience as your peers," he stated while continuing to pet back her hair, "but I think that you've done beautifully, and even better we've kept Simon out of danger."

"It'll be better when you finish this last mission, right?" she asked sleepily, bleary blue eyes glancing at her lover. "I mean, when you're not being targeted anymore."

"Yes, things will be better. It's not easy to be patient, Lucy, but it will be worth it all. We're doing great things right now, and this little dragon is going to do even greater."

"You won't let anyone hurt him, will you?" she asked shakily, the tears already coming again. Davy leaned over and dabbed at her face with a tissue. 

"Of course not, Lucy. He's the future."

She ran her pale fingers over the warm skin of her baby, barely 24 hours. She caught a peek of those blue eyes earlier in the day and was so excited to see if they would stay blue or shift to hazel like his daddy's. The hair on his head was a darker shade than hers and she couldn't help but try to picture what her son would look like when he grew up. It was hard to tell any real resemblance when he had been so puffy from the birth and now he was losing weight, something Davy told her was normal for a few days until her milk really came in. 

Lucy trusted Davy completely. The man cared for her, controlled for every variable, and never tired of his work to change the world. He was going to make it so that even entire countries could be held accountable for the behavior of their intelligence divisions. No more deaths of key players without repercussion. No more tolerance for dirty deals and reprehensible behavior. 

There was still so much work to be done and yet he was still here, taking care of her and their son. Beautiful, little Simon. Davy had delivered the baby with as much confidence as he did everything else. The books had been read, his research completed, and he was certain of his skills. It had been a long and painful labor, but it had been completely worth it to see that precious child screaming in his daddy's hands. 

A healthy baby boy.

Blinking slowly, Lucy realized that it was already dark and Davy was asleep behind her. Simon was contentedly suckling away at her sore nipple, seemingly able to hunt that nipple down regardless of his or her position and latch onto it with the focus that Davy had for his missions. She thought that she would be content to see Simon grow up to be just like his daddy. 

Shifting tiredly, Lucy winced at the pain that wouldn't seem to go away in her abdomen. A cold hand checking between her thighs informed Lucy that she had bled through yet another set of pajama bottoms, the only clothing she'd bothered with since giving birth. She had forgotten to mention the heavy bleeding to Davy earlier and didn't want to wake him up now. Bleeding was supposed to be normal after delivering, but she wasn't sure if going through a bag of pads and three pajama bottoms was maybe a bit too much. Sighing softly she decided that she'd bother with that in the morning. 

Right now, everything felt perfect. Davy was keeping her warm and protected from behind while Simon was suckling with gusto and making those funny little huffs and swallows. Her beautiful family.

*****

The office was in a somber mood and Natasha had only been able to bear it for an hour before she sent everyone home. She sat on the floor of her office quietly and watched her son babble sternly to himself as he moved his favorite block from one hand to the other. Those grey-blue eyes widened in surprise and then he stared back at his empty hand in shock as if he couldn't believe that the object had truly transferred. And then he would repeat the motion.

It always hurt to lose an agent. Some more than others, and in this case it hurt a lot. Lucy had begged off sick for a couple of days before David reported her missing under suspicious circumstances. They'd found evidence of her blood all over the apartment and her initial suspicions had rested with David himself. But it was hard to suspect him of foul play when he'd been in the field so much and was so visibly shaken by her disappearance. Field agents had been assigned to find Lucy, including Fiona and Nico, and in 48 hours her sister had called with confirmation on a body that had been discovered in a house fire a couple of cities down. 

There hadn't been much left to bury of Lucy Salisbury, and Natasha wiped a few tears away as she pictured that tired but smiling face. 

No one had been able to uncover why foul play was involved, and nothing in Lucy's effects shed any more light. Even after several agents went through the apartment and picked apart David's file, there was no motive and no proof of him doing anything to his girlfriend. One day she just disappeared, leaving nothing but blood. David had accepted her recommendation to stay close to Watford but off duty for a while, and Malcolm was flying back to be with his wife and son. 

It didn't make any sense and Natasha allowed herself to cry silently for the girl she failed. One of her own lost and without any hope of vengeance. 

*****

Davy stood in front of the windows, studying the skyline and allowing himself to feel the crushing emotions trying to bend and break him. It would be easy to just give up now, to dispose of himself just as easily as he disposed of Lucy's corpse. Simon was already gone, a precaution to keep the child safe and far removed from the truth of his parentage. It was also a much better place for Simon to be. Davy couldn't be expected to tend to the needs of a child while continuing his work to reform Watford and the world of assassins. Having Simon raised in a hostile environment would strengthen the child, and either break him or prepare him for the world that Davy intended to bring him back to.

Sweet Lucy.

His lips pinched more tightly, and he took a few deep breaths. It had been a mistake to allow his feelings to get so out of hand, and he would not be doing that again. Her unexpected death had almost thrown a wrench in his entire plan and he had to scramble, something that Davy despised. He always needed to be in control, and growing fond of the girl had added too much uncertainty. 

Leaning against the glass, he thought of that damned Natasha Pitch. Not only had that woman been a constant thorn in his side at Watford, but she had also made Lucy so self-conscious, especially as their children were born within a few months of each other. Natasha had been what Lucy called the "perfect pregnant woman" apparently in figure as well as easy pregnancy experience. Lucy had never developed the enviable "bump" as her weight distributed more in a roundabout way than straight over the gut. Davy had been thrilled because it helped to hide the pregnancy from his opponents better, but it had bothered Lucy. 

And maybe if she hadn't stressed so much about not being able to favorably compare to Natasha, or all the extra work that she took on for Watford in addition to the things she did for him...maybe she would still be here. If he had been able to trust Watford to have his back instead of being one of the main forces readying to stab him in the back...maybe she would still be here. 

It had been too much to try to keep an entire family hidden away. This was better.

And still, he closed his eyes and felt the burn in his eyes. Waking up to her cold body and all the blood that had stained the bed was an experience that would haunt him for life.

Sweet Lucy. 

Davy swore that he was going to keep her memory alive and accomplish everything he and Lucy ever dreamed of. His fist clenched tightly and he vowed that he would never let anyone come between him and those goals. It was all he had left of her. 


	24. Chapter 24

"I brought the chips and guac!" Shepard announced as he stepped into his apartment. "Also, three kinds of salsa because I know my man Simon loves the hot shit, but I can't stand more than tomato-level heat or I start to cry. And that wouldn't be the best impression to offer to new friends!"

He grinned at the startled look on the faces of almost everyone in the living room.

"Set it on the coffee table," Penny ordered, unperturbed by his perkiness. "We're going to have to abandon this location soon."

"Okay, cool. I've also got some white queso because no nacho bar is complete without it."

The young man with a buzzed undercut and a slicked back fringe rose an eyebrow. "Did you also bring some fucking tequila and limes?" 

Shepard liked the look of the man’s lip ring before reminding himself that he got punched in the face too often to risk a piece of facial jewelry on himself.

"Those are in the fridge, bud! Mind grabbing them while I set all this out?"

He blinked in surprise before laughing and offering a what-the-hell shrug and moving towards the kitchen. The anxious brunette that had been leaning against the wall followed behind, and Shep wondered if they were an item or something. Anxious man's eyes were firmly glued to the snuggly attired ass strutting in front of him. 

"Shepard, these  _ lovely _ people are members of the Grimm family," Penny sighed as she waved her hand in the direction of the guys in the kitchen and the woman tapping away on her cellular device. "Dev and Niall are in the ones in the kitchen, and this is Fiona Pitch."

"Pleasure," he greeted over the crinkling of plastic while he unloaded the food. "I would have done a taco bar all proper if I thought we could get away with the time for it, but figured that you all didn't have much to spare."

"What exactly is it ya do?" Fiona asked blandly. 

She was doing a good job of pretending indifference, but Shepard caught her quick glance towards him and the way that she was tilting her screen to give her a reflected view of him. This Fiona was very interested in his response.

He popped the lid off his styrofoam tub of mild salsa. "I'm in recruitment! Absolutely love my job! I get to talk to all kinds of people and travel around the country to match up clients with the perfect employee."

"An' what kind of clients do ya tend ta work fer?"

Another salsa lid popped off loudly.

"Government agencies mostly," he replied without missing a beat. "The kinds that give me a passing knowledge of the names Grimm and Pitch."

"Hmm," she hummed in acknowledgement before continuing to tap on her device.

"Shepard's an unusual name," the lip-ring man stated as he walked in with six glasses and a large bottle of tequila. The other guy behind him was carrying a bowl of sliced limes and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, it is!" the dark-skinned man replied happily. "And what does Dev stand for?"

Niall raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Dev stands for 'Devastation'," he replied just as smoothly before his tongue peeked out to toy at the metallic ring. "My parents knew what was up the moment they met me."

"Did you get that salsa I like?" Simon's familiar voice called out, and Shep perked up excitedly. 

"Of course, bruh! I've got you covered!" 

Simon stepped out in jeans that were a bit snug and remained unbuttoned with a t-shirt that was also stretched out over his chest and inexplicably tucked in at the front. Maybe Baz made him do it to be fashionable? Shep would never consider himself knowledgeable in that field.

"All my friends are twinks," Simon sighed with a chuckle as he tugged at the t-shirt. Penny harrumphed and he backtracked. "Well, more like my male acquaintances. Most people I associate with are twinks. There, better?"

"Barely," the frizzy-haired girl sighed. 

"Do twinks even need to shave?" Baz asked tiredly in an attempt to lighten the mood even further. Dev laughed loudly and Niall rolled his eyes so Baz counted it as a success.

Simon was busy stuffing his face with fried tortilla chips and salsa that looked almost orange-red. 

Fiona crushed a lime into a glass of tequila and handed it to her nephew before straightening up. "What's the plan?"

"As best as I can tell, Simon, Baz, and I are all in deep shit," Penelope sighed. "Virtually every agency is out hunting for me and Simon, while all agencies but the Grimms are out for Baz. The prices on our heads just went up too."

"Baz will be safe at the family compound," Dev stated easily before double dipping his chip into the queso. 

"I need to call my father," Baz sighed as he rolled his neck. "Maybe I can get him to grant asylum to Simon and Bunce."

"What would staying at the family compound with prices like that on our heads mean?" Penny asked. 

Shep kept quiet and hoped that they would forget he was even around. Conversations like this were worth more than his weight in gold.

"You'd be in complete lockdown at the compound," Niall explained. "No one comes in unless they are willing to stay, and there will be no leaving. It would be too much a risk for the entire family."

Simon dipped his chip in the creamy queso before immediately dunking it in the salsa and Baz grimaced before glancing away.

"So, basically house arrest?" Penny growled in annoyance.

"Better than dead," Dev replied. "Besides, no matter which way you run, it'll be mostly the same. Undercover for the rest of your lives, but if the Grimms accept you in then at least you'll live your confinement in comfort."

"You won't last nearly as long outside of the safety of the family," Niall agreed. "Stick together, and you all are dead. A hundred percent dead. Separate and go underground, and maybe you've got a couple of years. A decade if you're almost entirely off grid and lucky."

"Any other alternatives?" Baz barked out in annoyance. He tugged on his t-shirt as if the material was an offence to his sensibilities and shifted uncomfortably in the too short denims. He'd cuffed the ends in an attempt to make it look intentionally too short but it was still awkward.

"Humbert Drummond," Simon announced through a mouth full of masticated chips. 

Penny was giving him a concerned look and Shep felt bad. Simon was obviously stress eating, something that he hadn't been able to shake after the crazy starving and binging episodes being moved from care home to care home while growing up did to him.

"Of course!" Baz gasped. "Niall, why did the family want him taken out? That's the job that started this whole mess!"

"Actually, you two getting hitched is," Dev snickered, immune to his cousin's murderous glare. 

"Niall?" Baz pressed again with a growl.

The brunette leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms defensively. "He...he's an important asset to another organization. Carries critical information."

"Are you thinking about making some kind of trade?" Penny asked. 

"It's worth a shot," Baz sighed as he rubbed at his forehead. "The only other option is to hold up in a fortress for the rest of our days, so I think this is at least worth the consideration."

"I haven't really been able to find anything about this guy," Penny grumbled as she tapped on the keys of her laptop angrily. Simon's record is a bitch to find, but this guy doesn't even seem to have one!"

"Do you keep the records handy for all yer friends?" Fiona laughed derisively. 

"It's none of your business," she snapped back. 

"Well, girlie, let me do ya one better. I've already got a location for that Humbert Drummond fella." All eyes in the room snapped to her and she grinned sharply.

"Where?" Baz demanded. 

"Denver. We can meet a contact of mine there an’ it won't take any time ta get yer valuable asset."

"What do you think, love?" Baz asked, settling a hand softly on Simon's shoulder. 

"Sounds good," he replied quickly before shoving more chips into his mouth. He didn't even bother to look up.

A frustrated look crossed over Baz's face before he huffed and leaned back. "Driving or flying?"

"I've got a couple more throw away cars we can use," Dev stated.

Niall nodded. "Best to avoid security checks for now."

"I need to make a stop to get some clothes and weapons for us," Baz stated authoritatively. "After we're set, I'll call Father on the road."

"Perfect," Fiona responded. "Let's meet at the Numpty Lair in an hour."

"Fucking hell," Baz grumbled under his breath and Fiona cackled as she walked out the front door with her glass of tequila still in hand.

"My glass..." Shepard whined.

"What's the Numpty Lair?" Penelope asked in confusion.

"Just drop it," Baz growled before turning on his cousin. "You. Let's go. I need clothes that aren't fucking polyester or incapable of reaching my ankles."

"Sure thing," Dev snickered.


	25. Part 24

"You really didn't need to come with us," Penelope yawned as she stretched out in the passenger seat. 

"I know," Shepard replied with a shrug. "But I like being helpful." His PTO had been stacking up anyway.

"And you really need to stop making friends with everyone," she sighed, glancing over his shoulder to see the two zonked out husbands. "It's going to get you killed one of these days."

"Yeah, maybe," he replied easily. Dark eyes glanced over and a soft smile pulled at his lips. "But it'll have been worth it. All of it."

"You're a terrible son," Penny chided, her annoyance barely having any bite. "And you'd probably be a pretty awful boyfriend. Even if you are nice."

"Maybe."

Penny glanced towards the back again and felt the stress pounding in her head and the anxiety clenching her stomach. Simon was completely out, mouth open and drooling on Baz's probably spun-gold shirt and one of his hands resting heavily on his husband's stomach. The hand would occasionally offer a soothing rub and Penny wondered where to file the tidbit that Baz likely enjoyed belly rubs. The stern man still had worry etched on his face as he slept, and he had a hand protectively clutching at Simon's shoulder. 

It was stupid to be in love.

While the two of them were cozying up in their sleep, that had been after several hours of aggressively  _ not  _ talking, huffing, squirming and snapping at each other. Penny could tell, even in his annoyance, that Simon still cared a great deal for Baz, but it was obvious that Baz didn’t have a clue about how to deal with a really stressed out Simon. Love couldn’t bridge that gap.

She glanced over at Shepard as he started singing along with the radio tune. 

Love could get you killed.

She glanced back at Simon and felt the dread settle more heavily into her bones. They probably weren't going to make it through the next 48 hours. Not if the Mage was anything like she thought. 

Glancing down at her lap, Penny wondered at the type of person who knew that his own blood son was suffering in institution after institution and purposefully left him there. A man who thought it wasn't wrong to teach a teenager how to kill people. A man who was willing to put $600,000 towards her demise just because she found the truth about his son.

"Whatcha thinking, Penny?"

"I...let me bounce something off of you, okay?"

Shepard shrugged. "Sure."

"I know that the Mage is the one after me because it wasn't until I found those documents and files about Simon's history that everything went to hell for me. I wasn't breaking into the Grimm's servers or anything. So, I get that the Mage is upset with me seeing those documents, and I can see why he would have wanted to hide the truth, but...what would that change now? No one is going to care that he had a kid."

"Maybe he thinks that people will try to use Simon as a bartering tool with him? Having a kid is a vulnerability."

"That's true except Simon can pretty well take care of himself. And at this point the Mage is pulling the strings for most all of the hit agencies in the world. There isn't much resistance to him at the moment and that wouldn't change just because he had a son 26 years ago."

The two of them were silent for a few minutes before Shepard spoke up again.

"I guess that means that you're missing something. That there was something else in those files worth even more than keeping Simon's parentage off record."

Closing her eyes and going through the files again in her head, Penny tried to think of what she had missed. Those pictures of a young Simon were so heartbreaking. He looked as close to broken as she'd ever seen him, with those scrawny arms and haunted eyes. He had a history of being sent to foster homes that were abusive or neglectful, and even the few that weren't bad soon sent Simon back because he had too many problems. 

Simon's case file was so discouraging and messy that nothing looked too odd or out of place. First confirmed kill was in the States, but the second was down in Mexico. Simon used to be able to speak some Spanish, but she never asked if he still knew any. First broken bone was at age two courtesy of a foster mom. Kicked out of public school for unmanageable behavior and sent to remedial. Only kept out of a life in prison and crime because of the Mage's intervention. 

Penny's brain settled on the only odd thing she could recall. There was a foster home that Simon was taken out of after six months when he was twelve. That in itself wasn't strange, but the reason listed was "incompatibility with foster mom." There were no other such instances listed in all of his other homes - it seemed that everywhere else got rid of Simon, but for this particular lady...Simon wanted to leave her. He wanted to leave her so badly that the care system removed him...but opened no criminal charges of abuse or neglect. In fact, there hadn't been any incident reports of note during those six months. 

The woman had been diligent enough to let the case worker know about emotional outbursts and crude language and other such things there in the first month, but the instances dramatically decreased until there were no reports made after the third month. It would have looked like a success story to anyone else, but in the strange story of Simon Snow it was a red flag. 

"Her name was a strange one," Penny mumbled to herself as she rooted around for it. "Ebeneza Petty. Hmmm." 

She couldn't recall Simon ever mentioning the woman in any of their conversations. He didn't like talking about foster care much, and she never was interested in getting him worked up. 

"Do you have a lead?" Shepard asked quietly.

"Maybe. I'm going to have to do some serious research after we get this Drummond guy."

"On a lady?"

"Well, Simon never really had good experiences with foster parents, but I remember seeing one on file that seemed to go well."

"That's nice."

"It would be except that Simon requested that he get taken away from her. Incompatible."

"That's...weird."

"Yeah." She sighed and stretched out her legs again. They had another couple of hours before arriving. "Maybe she and the Mage had an affair? And maybe he has a whole different secret family on the side? That might piss off Simon enough to cause a rebellion."

Shepard twisted his lips in thought. "Kind of weird thinking about Simon getting upset about siblings. He's such a chill guy."

Penelope swallowed thickly as memories of  _ not  _ chill Simon flashed by. "He usually is. But sometimes things just set him off. Maybe this is one of those? Or maybe the Mage is worried about attempts on his family? Especially for as much bitching as he does to Simon about 'keeping things casual'."

"He wasn't a fan of the Snow marriage, I guess," Shep chuckled.

"No, he wasn't. But he stopped complaining and trying to talk Simon out of it a few years ago. Just didn't say anything anymore."

"That's mature of him."

"Maybe," Penny sighed before adjusting again and leaning her head against the window. "Are you still good to drive, Shep?"

"Yup. I'm good."

She reached a hand out over the console nestled between the two seats, and Shepard took it without a word. His hands were large and warm, something very reassuring to Penny's weary brain. Shep himself was reassuring, every lacking-self-preservation inch of him. She was grateful for all that he was doing and made a mental note to tell him so before the shit hit the fan.

*****

Baz felt on edge as their two vehicles pulled up to the backside of a closed construction zone. Meetups in places like this were not uncommon, but everything going on since that mission with Drummond had gone wrong or sideways. Simon was still oddly quiet, but he had a focused expression that Baz absentmindedly found more than a little alluring. Simon Snow looked like he could easily take out a team of highly trained specialists without breaking a sweat, and Baz was ready to finally be on the same side so that he could watch it.

His cool hand slid behind Simon's neck in a gesture of comfort and his husband's face softened enough to offer a small smile. Never one to hesitate with his affections, Simon leaned up and pressed a firm kiss to Baz's mouth, the both of them enjoying the few seconds they had before whatever else they were about to walk into.

The golden stream of their headlights lit up the figure of a man leaning against an all black '66 Shelby GT 350. Baz let out a low whistle and Simon grinned at his husband's thirst for pretty old cars. Maybe after all this shit was done they could buy a smaller house with a much larger garage and start a collection? It was a nice thought. 

"Do you know him, Baz?" Penelope asked nervously.

"No, I don't recognize him." Their cars parked and Fiona easily stepped out of her '67 MG and strutted up to the man. "Shepard, Bunce...stay here."

"We'll take care of this," Simon added before the two of them stepped out into the cooling air. 

"Hiya, lads," the man greeted easily. 

"Where's Humbert Drummond?" Baz asked, his voice deep and all business. 

"Where's yer manners?" Fiona laughed, and the other man chuckled along with her. 

Even in the dark Baz could see the way the man's eyes roamed over her body, and he wondered if this was one of her ex-boyfriends. She had a long list of those.

"Time is of the essence," Baz pressed. "So get the fuck on with it. Either you can be useful to me or not." The Pitch snarl was usually a lot more effective, but this man seemed to take it in stride. Almost definitely one of his aunt's former flames. 

"Your target is locked away about three miles out from here," the man explained calmly. 

Simon took in the blond hair, probably blue eyes (colorblindness and darkness did not help with things), and slight figure and felt himself grow a bit more anxious. The man's hair was pushed back in a fashionably mussed up manner, and his bone structure seemed almost too fine to be a man in this business, but that shorter stature and broader nose seemed to want to remind him of someone else. Had it been a hit? Did he kill this guy's brother or something? He had one of those ageless faces so Simon couldn't pin an age on him. 

"Aunt Fiona, do you have a plan for extraction?"

"Nickles, show them the blueprints," she responded instead. 

For the next few minutes they talked extraction-strategy, and soon they had everyone out of the vehicles and pouring over the plans. Simon noticed that this "Nickles" guy seemed like a pretty quiet fellow, just speaking up when there was a question for him. But he wasn't exactly being a wallflower or anything - his eyes were sharp and his body language tense. It made Simon feel nauseated. 

After working out the details of the plan Simon pulled Penny in for a hug. "Be safe, okay? Remember how I showed you to take out an assailant?"

"Go for the eyes, nose, and/or ears. Got it."

He clung a bit more tightly, his gut painfully unhappy about being separated from her. "I'm sorry, Penny. I wish that I could be here to keep you safe."

"Hey, don't worry about it, Simon. I've got Shep here as backup." They both laughed about that and then pressed their foreheads together. "I'll be perfectly okay here. You and Baz will get that guy, and we'll see how things unfold after that."

"Will do."

Taking a deep breath, Simon parted from his friend and strode over to join Baz and Dev. They were going to be vastly outgunned, but the element of surprise and their higher caliber of weapons handling was all that they could depend on.

"I've got your back, love," Baz stated earnestly. "We're going to do this."

"Yeah. Let's get it done," Simon huffed.


	26. Part 25

Strange things happening were nothing new for Shepard. It's one of the reasons he still believed in Bigfoot, and Mothman, and a number of other cryptids. Some things just couldn't be explained yet, and it took a lot of weird experiences to get a chance to figure any of it out. But even outside of the realm of otherworldly creatures, there were plenty of strange things that could happen to people.

Case in point, he was currently bound and gagged in the trunk of a car. Not the first time it had happened, but definitely the most surprising. 

He gently rolled over to nudge Penelope with his shoulder again, hoping that she would wake up soon. Normally, he would have been able to work himself out of the knots already, but that blond guy had managed to break a few of his fingers between knocking him out with a blow to the head and shoving him into the armored trunk. 

Who even armored their car trunks?!

Hitmen, apparently. 

Penelope moaned softly through the duct tape over her mouth and began stirring. He saw her go down first when the blond guy (Nicky?) pistol-whipped her in the back of the head. He'd been so stunned that the man didn't even have to work hard at pistol-whipping him right across the temple. Blood was crusting down his face already, so they'd been out for at least a little while. 

Soon, she was properly conscious and after some frantic grunting and shifting around and some frankly fantastic teamwork, Penelope managed to get herself untied and then freed Shep.

"What the heck happened?!" she whispered harshly.

"You were directing the guys on their mission and they'd just found that HumDrum guy when Mr. Blonde came up and pistol-whipped you in the back of the head!" he whispered back emphatically.

"The guy we came to get help from?!"

Shep nodded before remembering that neither of them could see anything. "Yeah, that guy. It didn't take him much to knock me out too."

The vehicle seemed to roll to a stop and the two prisoners kept quiet and strained to hear anything. There was some murmuring from the car but neither of them could make it out.

"Fiona didn't try to stop him?" Penny finally asked in a whisper. 

"I don't even remember seeing her," Shep admitted. 

"Damn it, Shepard, were you just staring at me even after I told you to watch my back?!" she hissed. 

"You said watch your back!" he chuckled nervously. "I was doing exactly that."

The car started rocking a little bit and Penny clutched nervously on to Shepard. 

"Are we rolling?! Oh shit, they're dumping the car in a river!"

"Shhh, calm down, calm down," Shepard soothed. "We're definitely not rolling downhill or anything."

"How would you know?!" There was silence for a second. "Oh hell, please tell me that you've never been rolled into a river in the trunk of a car."

"It's not an experience I'd like to repeat," he replied and she groaned before leaning against his arm.

"Then what the hell-"

A very loud moan cut through the padding and steel plates surrounding the trunk and both captives froze.

"Oh my sweet Kansas," Shep choked.

"Are they  _ fucking _ ?!" Penny whisper-screamed.

There were some more sounds that further supported that exclamation, and Shepard buried his face in Penelope's shoulder to smother his laughter. There wasn't much else they could do but listen, so Shep leaned close to Penny's ear. 

"Well, if we can't beat 'em then we join 'em, right?"

"I'm going to kick you in the balls as soon as we get out of here," she grumbled in response.

*****

Simon was about to boil over and lose it, and while Baz could understand the feelings he also needed to focus. What little time they had was ticking away.

"Listen, Humbert, there are only three options for you," Baz tried again. Simon huffed loudly and began tapping his foot. "Option A is that you just give us the information that we need and we let you go." Simon huffed even more loudly and Baz shot him an annoyed glare. "Option B is that you refuse to talk and I begin to remove your fingers one at a time with my pliers. I guarantee that it will hurt tremendously and you  _ will _ give me the information that I want."

"S-sounds lovely," Mr. Drummond stuttered as he tried to adjust to make himself more comfortable on the chair he was strapped down to.

"Your last option is C, in which I come up with a fun and creative way to kill you while ensuring that you endure the absolute maximum amount of pain." 

Drummond's blue eyes darted nervously back and forth between the two men and Baz gave him a moment to consider the options. Sitting so close to him it was even more obvious that this young man and Simon looked very similar. He was a bit more on the scrawny side compared to Simon's fit figure, no real hint of muscle on what was exposed of his arms, and his freckles, while many, were all wrong. Not enough and mostly just clustered around his cheeks and nose. He didn't even have that lovely mole just under his left ear.

Similar, but not all that close. And he was just a kid, probably not even 20 years old yet. What kind of information had this anxious wreck of a baby dug up to deserve the pleasure of being so greatly wanted? It had to be worth enough to buy his and Simon's freedom! But...why did he look so similar to Simon? It was an odd detail to get hung up on, but he couldn't help it. 

Even the Simon he met six years ago hadn't been this thin. He'd had slightly more of a baby face and zero chest hair, something that had annoyed him until he finally managed a few feeble strands in the last couple of years. Simon Snow was proud of those bloody chest hairs, and this kid looked like he'd never even had peach fuzz!

"What's your choice?" he snapped at this sad imitation of Simon.

"Uh, c-can I maybe..."

"Fuck this," Simon growled as he grabbed the telephone off the bedside table of the hotel room they were currently holed up in. He ripped the cord out of it, and in three quick steps he was in front of the kid and smashing that face with the device.

Baz sighed and leaned back while the boy blubbered and clutched his swelling face.

"I-I-I'll tell you! Fuck! A, A, Option A!"

Simon tossed the phone on the bed. "Talk, you little shit."

Baz filed that tone of voice and implied threat away for future use of a more pleasurable variety. Quality spank bank content right there.

"I don't know anything, okay!" Drummond tried. "And I'm just entry-level! I'm not high up enough in the organization to get to know shit!"

"What organization?" Baz snapped. 

"U-uh, I work with...New Blood?"

Both men looked at each other in confusion before turning their attention to the trembling kid. 

"What was your mission? And where are Penny and Shepard?!"

"I don't know!" Humbert begged while putting his hands up to protect against any more potential blows. "I don't know those names, man!"

"Then pray tell, what do you know?" Baz sneered. 

Those shifty eyes were back, glancing between them and the guy was fidgeting nervously again. 

"I don't-" Simon grabbed the phone again and Drummond yelped. "Okay! I was never wanted by any organizations! I was never the fucking target!"

Baz felt his stomach clench uncomfortably. 

"Then who-?" Simon started to ask before he froze.

"Getting married to a competing organization's top hitman isn't really the best idea," the boy muttered before squirming uncomfortably. 

"So you were just a decoy...to get us to go against each other?" Baz felt sick even just saying the words. 

That would mean that the Grimm family and Watford knew about them the entire time! Why would Malcolm put up with having his son in such danger? Why didn't they bring Baz into this information as soon as they got it, and talked a plan out with him?! Niall had to have known! Maybe even Dev! It was easy for him to believe that the Mage would manipulate Simon like that, but Malcolm Grimm too?

"Pretty much, yeah," Drummond responded nervously. "Not the most glamorous job, but it'll help me Level Up."

"Level Up?" Simon chuckled mirthlessly as he strode over to the window and peeked out the curtain. 

"Yeah, into the next level of the organization. This is my big shot."

Rubbing his forehead and trying to sort information out in his brain, Baz found himself jarred out with those words.

"Is?" he asked sharply and he saw the  _ oh shit _ expression on the man's face. 

He jumped to his feet and the kid winced immediately. 

"My belt!" he squeaked in terror. "My belt!"

Baz whipped the belt off with well-practiced motions and immediately snapped open the buckle to reveal a tiny electronic device.

"We've got to get out of here, love," he ordered sharply. "I'll get Dev."

As soon as Baz stepped into the bathroom, Simon stalked up to the anxious young man and leaned over right in his face. Drummond swallowed nervously and Simon could see the sweat beading up on his forehead.

"Who gave you the mission?" he whispered tightly.

"Braden," Drummond squeaked out. The bruise forming on his face was already a nasty dark color.

"Who the fuck is Brandon?"

"U-uh, he's the head of Next Blood."

"Next Blood is a piece of shit baby organization focused more on collecting intelligence than carrying out hits," Simon growled. "Why the fuck are they involved in this?"

"We are not!" the man responded in affront. "We're the next wave of assassins! Our training program has been meticulously tested for years, and with the use of bio-technology we're going to soon be taking over as the biggest hit agency!"

"Yes, I can see how well that training is going," Simon sneered as he looked the man up and down. 

"Th-that's just because I haven't Leveled Up, man. But I will after this!"

"Did this Braden guy brief you on this mission?"

"Y-yeah." He swallowed thickly and glanced away. "My entire job was to not get killed and remain in captivity until the two of you eliminated each other."

"We need to get going!" Dev called out tightly. "We've got incoming."

"Dev got a message from my aunt too," Baz comforted as they rushed out of the room. "They were attacked while waiting for us and had to run, but she's going to meet us with the rest of the group in Las Vegas."

"Vegas?"

The sound of helicopters was getting much louder.

"Yes," Baz sighed. "We've got a...contact there. He's remained a neutral party in most of the posturing and power plays of the agencies for years."

Swallowing thickly, Simon nodded. When they had suddenly lost contact with Penny in the middle of the kidnapping, he had nearly abandoned the mission and gone off to find her. Things didn't really feel much better now, but he was hoping that for once in his life things would just work out fine. Penny and Shepard  _ had _ to be okay. 

He couldn't lose anyone else.

*****

The trunk opened and both captives hissed in pain as a bright light was shone in their faces. 

"I told ya that they'd be outta those ropes," Fiona snickered.

"No worries," the blond man replied smoothly as he dragged Shepard out and then Penny. "No causing trouble if you'd like to live through the next 24 hours."

Penny nodded and rubbed at her eyes, trying to get them adjusted. It was pre-dawn and they were currently standing in the middle of a dark air strip. Fiona was standing a few yards away with her pistol aimed directly at them, nothing in her posture or state of attire to hint at what she and the other man had been up to earlier. He had his own pistol out, but it was hanging casually at his side. His hair was a bit more mussed than when they first met, but that was all that betrayed his hook up.

"What do you want with us?" Shepard asked conversationally. "We're actually pretty helpful people when asked."

Fiona snarled. "I don' need anything from the two of ya but ta keep yer fuckin' mouths shut!" 

Shepard's mouth snapped shut, but he kept a smile on his face.

Engines started loudly, making the two captives jump in surprise. Penny saw a small jet adjusting its wings and preparing for flight, and the fear leapt into her throat.

"Where are we going?" she whispered, grasping Shepard's hand.

"There's no reason to be frightened," a deep voice stated coolly and they glanced over to see a man stepping out of a car that had pulled up behind them. 

Penny felt her heart freeze as she took in the familiar pursed lips, condescending expression, and distinguished widow's peak. The shock of white hair slicked back made him look even more menacing and villainous. 

"Mr. Grimm!" she squeaked out.

He nodded cordially. "Ms. Bunce and Mr...I apologize young man, but I don't recognize you."

"The name's Shepard!" he chirped happily. "It's a pleasure to meet you!"

Fiona raised an eyebrow, and Penelope felt the desire to punch this fool for being so situationally inappropriate.

"Mr. Shepard. As I said, neither of you have anything to fear if you choose to follow along quietly, and not cause any trouble."

"It's hard to believe you when we've just been kidnapped and held against our will at gunpoint!" Penny shot back angrily.

"I understand, but it's just one of those occupational hazards. You should have chosen a different line of work if you weren't comfortable being in life-and-death situations." She gaped in shock at him and wondered at the many similarities between this man and Baz. Like father like son, she supposed. "Now, I'm going to need you both to step into the private jet for a short trip to our next location. The other members of our party are already on board."

"Where are we going?" she demanded, squeezing Shep's hand tightly in fear.

"Ya don' need to know shite!" Fiona growled angrily but Mr. Grimm put up a hand to cut her off.

"It won't hurt anything, Fiona." He glanced at the two captives and his lips pursed more tightly for a moment before relaxing. "We're heading to Las Vegas where we intend to take care of our own."

Penelope was sputtering in shock and rage. "Then why the hell didn't you just jump in when we were in Denver?! Why kidnap us?!!"

"Because there is more in the works than simply a rescue mission," he replied sharply. Everyone on the tarmac seemed to tense and Fiona looked downright murderous. "Debts will be paid, Ms. Bunce."

Shepard squeezed Penny's hand back softly as he stared up at the starry sky. It seemed like answers were finally going to be coming their way.


End file.
